Faith
by ysubassoon
Summary: Set after "Demonology," Emily decides to reach out to JJ and explain her connection to Matthew and John, and also to confess her true feelings. The final chapter is now up.
1. Chapter 1

**Pairing: JJ/Emily, femslash**

**Disclaimer: The characters in this story are the property of CBS and the Criminal Minds writing staff. I write for fun, not profit.**

Emily Prentiss tapped her pen absently on the desk, her eyes unfocused and a headache creeping slowly up to the center of her forehead. She was completely exhausted; as strong as she was, or at least as strong as she was accustomed to being, the events of the last several days used every last physical and emotional reserve she had left. The loss of her friend Matthew Benson, the sight of him on an autopsy table, the guilt that consumed her as she understood just how much she had abandoned him—it should have been painful enough. Matthew had stood up for her and held her hand at a time when she was most abandoned, and yet when he needed her, she was nowhere to be found. His last days and hours were terrifying, and she had done nothing to ease the horror that gripped his heart. Because she had left him years ago to face it all alone. His death was all she thought she could bear without breaking.

Time stretched so strangely for her, rushing through her fingers like the winds of a bitter fall storm, and yet sometimes it seemed to take so long for her to take one step, say one word, lift one hand...every second weighed on her like gravity, pushing her closer and closer to the ground until she crumbled. When she saw John on the bed, screaming at the priest and straining against the straps that bound him to the bedposts, she panicked. Every scream, every drop of blood tore through her, left her raw and cold. Just for a moment, and then Morgan was finally able to grab the priest and lead him away from the room. Once the priest was gone, she worked feverishly to untie John, who was at once so scared and so relieved that he didn't even wait for both hands to be freed before he wrapped his arms around Emily, clinging to her until enough of the fear had passed that he could sit up and try to walk a little. She knew he needed that, to be able to lean on her but still to feel for himself the ground beneath his feet. She couldn't support Matthew when he needed her, but she would make damned sure that John knew she wouldn't leave him until he was ready to stand on his own.

Sighing, Emily rubbed her eyes and looked at the clock on the wall of her study. 3:24 AM. The page before her was still blank but for the date and the greeting, even though she had been "working" on this letter for the last several hours. Jennifer Jareau. She couldn't get past the name enough to write. She would pick up the pen, and then remember that she was writing it for JJ, and her hand would automatically stop moving. Emily was not a person who wrote many letters; truth be told, other than official correspondence, there hadn't ever been many people to whom Emily felt she could write. Despite the thousands of people she'd met at one of the Ambassador's functions or in the cities and countries she'd lived in as a child, she never had more than a handful of people she could trust to see her as she really was, and most of those people were her mother's staff. Except for Matthew, and now JJ. JJ was the first person in many years who could communicate with her without saying a single word, who would search Emily's face and eyes until she understood what Emily needed, and then gave it to her with her whole being: a word, a phrase, a hug, a touch, a squeeze of the hand, time, space—whatever she needed, JJ always figured out what it was and made sure she had it. And Emily was so affected by all that JJ did for her that the mere thought of it stayed her hand every time.

But this letter had to be written. She needed the advantage of time and editing and distance so that she could finally make clear to JJ all that she meant to her. Her reasons were mostly pragmatic. Since Will had moved in with JJ during her pregnancy and then stayed to help raise Henry, JJ and Emily did not get to spend as much time together one-on-one as she would have liked. Even the countless hours Auntie Emily got to spend with Henry when she visited JJ's house felt brief and a little awkward because of Will. She knew that she connected on a level with JJ that Will would not understand, and because of that, she was not free during these visits to fully relax and be herself. This letter was her way of finally getting through to JJ, finally starting the conversation she'd been putting off for years. And because she was writing the letter on a weekend and hand-delivering it, JJ would have the time she needed to process what she read and respond to it without creating any awkwardness when they returned to work the following Monday.

If she was honest with herself, which she never was very easily, Emily knew that not all of her reasons for writing were completely pragmatic. Though there many distinct advantages to the written word over the spoken word, there was also an implicit cowardice. Emily was writing because she wanted to hide behind her pen and paper. She was writing because words, once spoken, weren't boomerangs; you could never get them back once they were released. But when you wrote, there was always a chance that the letter would get lost or wet or torn up or otherwise ruined before the recipient ever got to read it. And it was oddly comforting to her that JJ might not get the letter and she wouldn't have to worry about how her words might change their relationship. Sure, the status quo might be making her completely miserable, but it was a misery that she knew quite well, and had adjusted to over the years. It was familiar; she knew its demands and learned long ago how to meet them. She picked up the pen again and warred briefly with herself over whether it was worth it to assume the risks that her relationship with JJ might change for the better, that she would be able to offer her heart to JJ and that JJ would be willing to accept it and offer hers in return, given the equal risks that their relationship might change for the worse, and irrevocably so. She might destroy a family, or she might gain one. She might even do both. She paused for a moment, sucked in one large gulp of air, and began to write.

_Dear JJ,_

_It's a few hours before sunrise as I write this. I should probably be sleeping, but I know that if I gave in and crawled into bed right now, it would be months or longer before I found the courage to write again. By that time, I might have forgotten what it was I wanted to say to you, and that would be a grievous loss for me. Maybe for you, too. Who knows?_

_You might be wondering why I chose to write to you when we work together and see each other often because of work and Henry. You might be wondering if there could be anything left for two people to say to each other after spending all of those hours together. You could be right; it could all be nothing, but I have to say it anyway and let you be the judge of its merit. I want my words to be worthy of you; I want to be worthy to you. No one else understands me like you do, and no one else has been so patient with me without being asked, so I hope you will indulge me for a little while longer while I share this message with you._

_I have been thinking a great deal for the last several days, especially the last few hours since we rescued John from the priest and put this case to rest. When it was all over, I walked several miles back to the church and stood in the street, staring at the cathedral doors and stained glass and the huge doors in the entry. I wondered about those doors. How could something so large and so heavy, so difficult to open be a sign of welcome, entreating anyone in search of refuge, solace, comfort, to enter? I stood there for so long that it took a small nosebleed to shake me awake. I was shivering violently because of the snow, and probably had been for the better part of an hour. I waited for the bleeding to stop, wiped the remaining blood on my sleeve, and hailed a cab back to my house. I have been here ever since, standing at my window taking in the view of the Capitol as night faded._

_I am writing in part to apologize to you. I am so sorry that I have been preoccupied and __irritable and distant with you during this case. I know I have acted that way with everyone in the team, but it seems to have hurt you more than it has the others, and I have never wanted to be the cause of anything but happiness in you. I know I haven't been easy to put up with, and I hope that you will find it in yourself to forgive me and let me make it up to you in whatever manner you see fit._

_When Matthew died, part of my life was ripped from me. Again. I told you that he, John, and I were friends during the few months I spent in Italy while my mother was posted there. That much was true, but there is more to the story that I was not yet ready to share. I held out on you, and once again, I am so sorry. It's not that I don't trust you; I trust you completely, literally with my life. It's that I don't, or didn't, yet trust myself that I would be able to explain to you, without breaking down, the real significance of Matthew's chapter in my life. I needed a little time and distance so that I could get it right. You and Matthew both deserve that._

_Matthew, John, and I met when I was fifteen. Among all of the other children of diplomats and businesspeople with us in Rome, only the three of us seemed to get along. I had moved around so many times by then because of the Ambassador that I knew the "new kid" drill by heart. I ingratiated myself to anyone I could find who showed an interest in me in return. It wasn't long before the three of us were inseparable, bonded not just by our affection for one another, but also by the fact of our shunning by the other kids. We were still so young, and I was still new to the idea of having real friends, so my relationships with John and Matthew took on a huge and confusing significance. What we had was almost love, and almost was more than I had ever had, so I embraced it. One night, John and I stretched our almost love as far as it could go, and I ended up pregnant._

_John was terrified of me, of us, after that first night and even more so when he learned of my pregnancy. He kept his distance, and it wasn't long before he had completely disappeared. Matthew stepped in to pick up the pieces. He took my hand, looked me in the eye, and asked me what I wanted to do. I was too afraid to tell the Ambassador. I was certain of her rejection, and I could not have borne that. So Matthew walked with me to talk to our local priest there in Rome. He told me that if I had an abortion, I would no longer be welcome in his church. I was only fifteen. I couldn't bear the thought of bringing a life into the world that would be dependent on me when I was so hollow, so broken. It wouldn't be right. I couldn't justify it, so Matthew found an abortion clinic and went with me. He held my hand and promised never to let it go._

_Some time passed, and Matthew took my hand once again and led me into our church during Mass one Sunday. Even though the priest stopped his sermon when we entered, Matthew held his head high and walked with me down the aisle, not stopping until we reached the first pew. That moment was the strongest, most confident I'd ever seen him, but it didn't take long for his resolve to fade and for the rejection of our parents, and the condemnation of our church, our priest, and our city to bring him to his knees. Matthew was devoutly religious, just as his parents were. But what happened to me, to us, made him start to question everything he believed. His life was devoted to God, and he didn't understand Him anymore. He didn't understand why he was being rejected. He grew increasingly rebellious and lashed out at everyone, targeting me when his parents or fellow parishioners were not available. His parents blamed me for his misery, and they were right to do so. He was in a tailspin, and I could do nothing for him. Eventually, they __moved away, and the Ambassador got a new posting. I heard about him from time to time, found out he had fallen into drugs. It seemed safer to stay away than to help him. I could only make the situation worse with my presence. I didn't see Matthew again until John called me and asked me to investigate his death._

_I've never really had what you would call a strong faith. I grew up around churches, and attending church services was part of keeping up appearances as the daughter of a diplomat. We went to a lot of churches, but I was as rootless in my faith as I was at home. Before Italy, I neither felt welcome nor rejected by the church or by God. It was just one more place where I wasn't accepted, and that was okay by me. Then I met Matthew, and my feelings started to change._

_The intensity in his eyes when he talked about the Bible, about his God, was as thrilling as it was bewildering to me. I'd never seen such fire, and never wanted so much to carry a little flame of my own. I needed something to believe in. I never had anything like that. I grew up surrounded by people who cared for me at least partially because they were paid to. I learned quickly to compartmentalize, to hide any signs of frailty or fear. I became indifferent. I was so focused on hiding and running (from myself and others) that I didn't realize I had nothing to run to, no one to anchor me, no one for whom I would abandon the shadows. I never ran out of things to hide, but I did find that I had less and less to show. I folded in on myself._

_When I got pregnant, and then had an abortion, I felt like part of my life was being snatched from me—my future. Complications from the abortion procedure left me sterile. Any dream, however faint, of having a real family, someone to take care of and someone who would take care of me, was gone. I wanted to believe in something bigger than myself, and that was a family. And it was gone. _

_I changed my focus, throwing myself into school so that I could put myself into a position to join the FBI. The FBI was vastly bigger than me, and on a mission to rid the world of evil and help victims find comfort. Those were things I could believe in, and I started to see my own little flame emerging. I worked tirelessly for ten years, rising slowly through the ranks until I was eligible for a transfer to the BAU, my dream job. The worst criminals and the greatest opportunity to do real and permanent good in the world. The BAU was everything I ever wanted, and all I thought I could achieve._

_Until I walked out of Hotch's office the first day and met you. I was frustrated that my dreams might be lost because some paperwork hadn't been properly shuffled. I was angry that Hotch and Gideon believed that I had pulled strings to get into the BAU, that I was only going to use the position for political gain. Ten years of exhausting work was reduced in seconds to manipulation and pandering. After everything I had gone through, I thought my dreams were being stolen from me again. And then I saw your blue eyes, and all of my anxiety, frustration, and stress melted away. Your eyes held everything I had been searching for, all of the kindness and hope and compassion that I understood but did not until then believe were in the world. I didn't know that good existed until I saw it for myself in you._

_I don't know how you do it. I don't know how you go through file after file filled with images of the most incredible depravity, how you decide which cases we consult and __which cases we work. How do you do all of that and still remember how to smile? How do you face the worst parts of humanity, and still find a way to reach out to a friend who needs comforted? How do you keep the monsters at bay so that Henry doesn't see them, doesn't feel them when you hold him? I don't know how it happens, but the fact that you can hold onto the good parts of your life while you face the worst head on...well, that's something worth believing in. That's worthy of a little faith. And I do have faith in you._

_Because I have faith in you, I don't need to understand how you find the better angels of your nature amidst the most depraved and violent people; I just need to believe that you will keep finding them. I don't need to wonder how you find the strength to love and the openness to be loved; I just need to believe that you will. I believe in you, and because of my faith in you, I am starting to believe in myself, too. And I have tried my best to thank you in the only ways I knew how. Every word, every glance, every touch you give heals me, and so every touch and every word I give in return is a prayer of thanksgiving. I don't know how I came to be lucky enough to have you in my life, but I know enough not to take it for granted._

_Because of you, I don't run as much or hide as much as I used to. I am finding I have more to show each day. Because of you, all of the places in me that once were hollow are now full of possibility. You are my window into the best and most meaningful parts of life. Whenever I get discouraged or afraid of the things we face at the BAU, I know I need only to find you and I will remember why we do our job, all the good we gain from it, all the lives we change for the better, all the comfort we bring to the grieving._

_I love you, JJ. I'm in love with you, and I have been since the moment our eyes first met. You are my anchor in a restless world. You are my strength and my greatest comfort. I know that I risk a lot to tell you those three words, and you risk a lot to read them. But I had to write it because what I feel for you is too big for any compartment, too big for this page. What I feel for you can move mountains, and you deserve to be with someone who would do that for you without being asked. I would do absolutely anything for you, and that includes walking away from you, the BAU, the FBI, all of it, if that was what you wanted. The last thing I want to do is to tear your family apart; if I have to walk away for you to keep your family together, I will. But first, you need to ask yourself what you really want out of your life, and if you are getting it._

_Before you consider asking me to walk away, I hope you'll give us a chance. Give me an opportunity to show you how happy you could be when you are with someone you love, someone whose focus in life is keeping the light shining brightly in your eyes. You deserve to know that kind of happiness, and you haven't had it since you met Will. Henry is the joy of your life, of all of our lives, but Will doesn't seem to make you happy, and it kills me to see you just getting by on almost love when you could have so much more._

_When I was living in Egypt and studying Arabic, I picked up a few verses from the Qur'an and the Hadith. My favorite verse from the Hadith says that when you take a step toward God, He takes ten steps toward you, and when you walk toward Him, He runs toward you. I don't believe in God, JJ, but I do believe in you. If you take one step toward me, I promise I will run the rest of the way to you. I don't live in the past anymore; when I see you, I see a future. One filled with all the things I lost with Matthew and John and never believed I would find again. I see a family. Take the step, and I will spend every single __day showing you all the things I see for us._

_The sun is about to come up, so I guess that's my cue to stop writing (that and the cramp in my wrist). Give Henry a kiss for his Auntie Emily. Take as much time and space as you need with this letter. You know where to find me when you are ready to talk._

_Love,_

_Emily_

She folded the letter carefully and slid it into the envelope, taking care to seal the flap completely. Pushing herself away from the desk and stretching her arms and legs briefly, Emily picked up her keys and walked downstairs, letter in hand. She stopped at the door for a moment, knowing that this was her last chance to turn back, and then took a deep breath and walked out the door.

The drive to JJ's house was excruciating. She was exhausted and anxious and apprehensive and exhilarated all at once. Her nerves were on edge, and that more than kept her awake, despite not having slept well in many days. Nearly an hour later, she pulled up to JJ's mailbox, placed the letter inside, and raised the flag. It was done. She did everything she intended to do. Now all she could do was wait.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: All of the characters in this story belong to the writing staff of Criminal Minds and CBS proper. I write for fun, not profit.**

**Pairing: JJ/Emily, femslash**

JJ woke to the sound of Henry gurgling and giggling on the baby monitor. He was starting to wake up, and she loved that he was such a happy baby that he almost always had a smile on his face first thing in the morning. She turned and exited the bed, careful not to disturb Will, whose head was half-buried in his pillow, muffling the light snores that emerged every so often.

JJ walked quickly down the hallway to the nursery, and laughed at what she saw as she leaned over the edge of the crib. Henry had managed to get most of his foot in his mouth, and was so delighted by that fact that he had a huge grin on his face, big dimples present on either side of his foot. He turned his head when he saw JJ, and his eyes lit up. He found her laughter hysterical, and starting giggling along with her. She tickled his sides lightly and he let go of his foot.

"Good morning, Henry Silly-Pants," JJ said, picking up the baby and walking over to the changing table.

Henry smiled in reply and began sucking on two of his fingers.

JJ laid him gently on the changing table and expertly removed and replaced his diaper, making sure to move quickly before Henry turned on the "waterworks." When he was all clean, wiped, powdered, and changed, she rifled through one of his drawers until she found a complete outfit for him: a pair of jeans, socks, sneakers, and an FBI Agent-in-Training t-shirt courtesy of Henry's Auntie Emily. She dressed him and placed him in his playpen with his favorite stuffed tiger, a ball, and a set of plastic keys he loved. Once he was settled, she left to take a shower and get herself ready for the day.

Ten minutes later, JJ emerged from the bathroom, one towel wrapped around her while she patted her hair with the other. She moved to her dresser and took out a pair of gray sweatpants, a white fitted t-shirt, and a Pitt hoodie. Once she was fully dressed, she pulled her still damp hair into a ponytail and walked back to the nursery.

Henry raised his chubby little arms as she leaned over the playpen to pick him up. She carried him downstairs to the kitchen, and set him in his highchair while she prepared his breakfast. She set the jars of food on the counter nearby and started to feed him.

Breakfast was a success, primarily because more of the food ended up in his mouth than on her, him, the tray of his chair, or the floor. She cleaned up the mess, wiped his face, and set the dishes in the sink. Henry was bouncing in his chair, trying to get rid of the tray so he could get out. She wrote a quick note for Will and turned to rescue Henry from his highchair.

_Will,_

_ I'm taking Henry to the park for a little while. He's got so much energy this morning that he can't sit still. Enjoy the extra sleep, and we will see you in a few hours._

_ JJ xoxo_

With Henry in one arm, JJ picked up her keys, sunglasses, and Henry's diaper bag with the other. She smiled to herself as she remembered that Garcia referred to the bag as Henry's ready-bag, like he was a member of their team as well as of their rather unorthodox family. As JJ carried Henry out to her car, she noticed something out of the corner of her eye that seemed unusual. It was only 7:30 in the morning, and yet the flag was already raised on her mailbox. The mail wasn't supposed to be delivered for at least two more hours. She walked over to the mailbox to put the flag down, thinking that one of the neighbor boys had left something in the box as part of a prank, and quietly resolved to exact some measured revenge. She wasn't much of a practical joker herself, but she would seek the advice of Morgan and Reid if it became necessary to retaliate.

Inside the mailbox was a plain white envelope, unmarked but for the carefully written name on the front—Jennifer Jareau. JJ would recognize that well-rehearsed, elegant handwriting anywhere. Only the daughter of an ambassador, raised in a world of Icarus-like expectations and extreme formality with everyone she met, would address a personal letter as she would an invitation to a white-tie ball. But why was Emily writing her a letter? And what was so important about the message inside that she had to drive nearly two hours round trip to see it safely to JJ's mailbox? What could Emily possibly have to say to her that had to be said in this way, and not at work, or away at a case, or hanging out with the team at a bar, or during movie night at Garcia's apartment? She was perplexed, but took the letter and put it in Henry's bag so that she could read it at the first opportunity her impromptu trip to the park presented.

JJ buckled Henry into his seat, and when she was satisfied that he was secure, she put his bag in the seat next to her and started the car. Ten minutes later, they arrived at the park, and Henry waited patiently in his seat while she retrieved the stroller from the trunk of the car and brought it around to him. She carefully undid the straps on his car seat and placed him in the stroller, pausing long enough to apply some sunblock to him.

She walked slowly, but methodically, along a calculated and familiar route to the playground, stopping to visit the duck pond, purchase a cup of coffee from a vendor, and finally rolled Henry's stroller to a stop at a park bench shaded by a clutch of maple trees. She got a small blanket out of the bottom of the stroller and laid it on the ground, careful to remove any stones or other objects that would hurt her son if he happened to roll over them. JJ took Henry out of the stroller, removed the letter from the "ready" bag, and watched her son play while she read.

When JJ finished reading the letter, she reached up to wipe something from one of her eyes and her hand was met by a wave of tears. She was completely overwhelmed by what she read; her brain, her heart were pumping furiously as she tried to understand everything Emily wrote. It went, she hoped, without saying that Emily was forgiven for how distant she had been during the last case—anyone in her situation suffering from the loss of the last person who meant anything to them would have acted as she had. It was to Emily's credit that she was able to hold up as well as she did. JJ had always admired the profiler's dedication to her work, especially to the victims and their families, and certainly, the death of Matthew hit her especially hard. But just when you thought she might completely break down, she would look up at you with such force and determination that it would leave you breathless. And then she would work through the case without stopping, but not without tiring, refusing to give up and the unsub was either caught or killed, and the victims finally had some relief, some comfort. In Matthew's case, Emily was both a profiler and a close friend of the victim, seeking justice from and for both sides. JJ could not imagine how she got through it.

She understood, now, too, why Emily's connection to cases where victims were children was so strong, why she was so unrelenting. It tore JJ's heart to know what Emily had lost, especially since JJ had it herself—she'd gotten pregnant without any forethought or planning; it was effortless, and because she got pregnant when she already had an established career and home, there was never a second when an abortion became a viable option. Emily never had that kind of security. When she got pregnant, she was a lost, incredibly lonely teenager far from anything resembling a support system or a home, looking for a place in the world that would take her another decade to find. Her life would have been destroyed, and may even have ended if Matthew hadn't intervened and helped her find a doctor who could perform an abortion. And with the complications, Emily would never have another chance, no matter how secure her job or income, no matter how good the people were in her life. It was set in stone; Emily would never get to have what came to JJ so easily, at least not on her own. JJ tried to lessen her guilt by making a quiet but solemn promise to herself that she would make sure that Emily got to spend as much time with her son as she needed or wanted to. She wasn't going to let the awkwardness between Will and Emily get between Emily and Henry.

Now, at least, she understood why the two of them never seemed to get along. From the beginning, they were unable to be more than polite to one another, especially around her. If Emily had been in love with JJ for as long as she said she had, then it made sense that the profiler would not be a fan of Will, and the increasing importance he had in JJ's life. That explained her actions, but why did Will have a problem with Emily? Did he sense that she felt more than she was letting on? It was confusing to JJ how she could miss all the signs of Emily's feelings toward her for not just months, but _years_. How much more of her own life, of all of her relationships had she missed out on over the last several years, and why? What was holding her back from seeing people and events for what they were? This is what she was trained to do, to observe, to analyze...something important was preventing her from seeing the truth, and she had to figure out what it was and how to unblock herself.

Will was a matter in and of himself. Was Emily right about him, about her settling for "almost love" with Will? Over the course of their relationship, she had only had one qualm, and that was about its speed. At first, things were casual, and the relationship was carried out long-distance, so that each of them stayed in familiar places around people and careers that were the center of their lives. And then she found out she was pregnant, and within a day, Will had asked her to marry him, fought with her when she said that she wanted to keep her job, and gave up his detective's shield so that he could move into her house in Virginia. Even though she did not accept when he proposed, he still sometimes referred to her as his wife and to himself as her husband. This upset her, as it seemed to usurp her authority over her own life and end the independence upon which she thrived.

So yes, there were a few significant things she didn't like about him. They did not see eye to eye on the necessity of her keeping a job, and as time passed, and it became harder for him to find a job in DC, he became more irritable and they started fighting more. But he was a great father to Henry, and was supportive of her career, even if he didn't like it, and he loved her. God, he loved her. He gave up his whole life, the only place he ever called home, so that he could start a new life with her and their son in DC. It was hard for him, and she saw regret in his eyes sometimes when they argued or when things were silent between them. She couldn't blame him; she would never be able to do for someone else what he did for her without hesitation. She'd never be able to give up her world for his, and maybe that was the whole problem. JJ had always believed that their only problem was that everything happened to them too quickly, and that she would be able to know what she felt and sort out their relationship if they had more time.

Whatever else came of the letter, JJ was certain of one thing—she was going to keep her eyes open from now on. She folded the letter and put it back in the envelope before returning it to the bottom of Henry's bag. After a few hours of sunshine and playing outdoors, he was finally starting to tire. He didn't cry or struggle when she picked him up and placed him back in the stroller. His eyes started drooping, and he was asleep before they reached the car. The windshield of the car carried JJ's reflection as they approached. The sky was cloudless, and a shade of blue so clear and bright that it rivaled that of JJ's eyes. She lifted Henry out of the stroller, taking great care not to disturb her sleeping baby, and placed him in his car seat. Once he was strapped in and a blanket was placed over his lap, she got in the driver's seat and pulled away.

When she walked into the house with Henry, she saw a note on the kitchen counter, near where she left the one she'd written before. It was from Will, stating that he'd been invited over to the house of some friends of theirs to watch a college football game, and that lunch was ready for JJ and Henry whenever they wanted it. She smiled at the touching gesture, and took Henry upstairs so he could finish his nap. Once he had been changed and had fallen asleep again in his crib, she walked back down to the kitchen to get the turkey and Swiss cheese sandwich Will had made for her. She carried the plate and a glass of water with her into the study. She found her stash of notepaper, envelopes, and a decent pen and set them on the table in front of her, just to the left of the plate bearing her lunch. She ate carefully, trying to avoid spilling any crumbs on the paper. Her meal complete, she wiped her hands on her sweatpants, picked up the pen, and began to write.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own no characters, no TV shows—just my own imagination and the clothes on my back, and both of those are still being paid for.**

**Pairing: JJ/Emily, femslash**

"_But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue." -Hamlet_

Emily walked into the bullpen uncharacteristically early on Monday. Even though she was not, by any account, a morning person, she was well rested and alert this morning. Alert wasn't really the word for it—from the moment that she dropped the letter in JJ's mailbox, her stomach, chest, and synapses had been tied in fiery knots. It was the slow burn, not of coffee, but of every thought of JJ that was keeping her awake today.

Her weekend had been shorter than she expected. When she had returned home after completing her postal mission, the exhaustion that had been consuming her could no longer be held at bay, and she had fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep that lasted until daybreak on Sunday. After going for a run, she had a long soak in her hot tub, followed by a leisurely brunch. She had then spent the afternoon curled up on the couch with one of the books from her Kurt Vonnegut collection. Emily ordered in a pizza for dinner and watched a movie until she felt herself falling asleep again. For all appearances, it looked like a perfectly relaxing day, with all of the ideal comforts anyone would want following such an emotionally draining week.

Emily had done everything she could think of to calm her nerves and pass the time until she saw JJ again. She tried every soothing ritual, from exercise, to the hot tub, to movies, to the comfort of a much loved and dog-eared book. Nothing worked. She had not been able to focus on anything but her questions and feelings about JJ. Did JJ get to the mailbox before Will? Did she have a chance to read the letter yet? She hoped that her reaction was not the reason that she hadn't heard from her all weekend or even received a single text message. She was accustomed to texting JJ throughout the week. Emily loved having the opportunity to have a conversation with JJ of which no one else could be a part. She found the silence of the blonde worrying, and that contributed to her anxiety. Was JJ surprised? Angry? Scared? Confused? Would they be able to look each other in the eye at work? Did JJ share her feelings? Did she love Will? If not, was she staying with him for Henry's sake, for her own, or both? An obsessive litany of questions dogged her throughout the weekend, and carried over to Monday morning. Monday could not come fast enough and yet there was also no other day in recent memory that she would rather avoid entirely, if she could.

Despite all of her doubts, her struggles, and her fervent attempts to keep it at arms-length for as long as possible, Monday had arrived on schedule without a care for her efforts to prevent it. Now she found herself on autopilot in the break room, getting mugs and tracking down cream and sugar while she waited for the pot of coffee she'd started to finish brewing. Emily had nearly completed her ministrations over the coffee when she was interrupted by the sound of a throat clearing. She turned toward the door and her warm brown eyes met brilliant blue, and she stopped breathing for a few seconds.

Unbeknownst to Emily, JJ had been standing in the doorway watching her for nearly a full minute. The media liaison had departed the safety of her office for the break room so she could get her second cup of the day. Despite the perpetual light in her eyes, it was obvious to anyone that she hadn't slept for at least a day, maybe two. The dark circles under her eyes gave her away. She had actually left her house an hour earlier than usual because her sleep had been so fitful and restless that she got out of bed feeling like she hadn't slept at all. She had tossed and turned so violently and so often that she had awakened Will a few times, and she had tried to appease her small guilt by switching to the guest room and trying to fall back asleep. After meeting with no success once again, she gave up, showered, dressed in the first pantsuit she could find in the dark, kissed sleeping Henry goodbye, and left for work. No matter what she did, she could not stop or even slow all of the thoughts in her head long enough to fall asleep. Emily dominated every part of her brain; it seemed that overnight, her memories, her movements, her words—hell, even her motor skills seemed to now be dictated by Emily. Even in her absence. Especially in her absence.

She tried to concentrate on the looming stack of files that threatened to collapse and overtake her desk, but it was to no avail. Emily filled the office in spirit … there were reminders of her everywhere. They had spent countless hours talking in this office, usually because one wanted to comfort the other. All they had done was speak, and occasionally their hands would brush, but these conversations were suddenly among the most important events of JJ's life, and the immediacy of the change in her perceptions of them was not just confusing, but shocking. She didn't realize how much those small things meant to her until Emily had confessed her feelings in the letter. She knew the letter would change how she felt about her, but she hadn't realized just how much or even in what way. One second, she was fine, and then she would spot a part of the room Emily had sat in or a conversation they had had, and then she would lose control of her nerves. JJ had only been at the office for around ninety minutes and already she had tripped twice on the stairs to her office (once in each direction), dropped the same stack of folders three times, lost her pen under her desk, and then hit her head on the underside of the desk as she searched for the pen. She would also swear that she felt her heart stop the few times she looked at the clock and realized that Emily would be at the BAU soon. She knew that a second cup of coffee would do nothing to ease her nerves, but it might be a distraction from her thoughts, and that she would welcome.

But the reprieve she sought was not to be, as the precise person the media liaison had been trying to avoid had arrived an hour earlier than usual, and was now finishing preparing two mugs of coffee. JJ didn't need to ask who the second mug was for; she knew it was intended for her. Emily made a point of bringing JJ coffee or water at several points throughout the day. It didn't matter if they were on the jet or away on the case or even completing paperwork at their office in Quantico. Emily always was able to sense when JJ was thirsty or craving caffeine, often before JJ had realized it herself. Not only did the drinks always arrive just as they were needed, but JJ was very particular about how she took her coffee, and varied the strength, type, and amount of cream and sugar based on her mood. Emily had learned her moods and mastered JJ's unnecessarily intricate coffee regime nearly effortlessly, and seemingly without asking anyone for help. Emily was very patient when it came to learning about JJ, and she would not stop reading her eyes and body language until she could determine what mood she was in, and what Emily could do to help. The profiler's skills had come in handy—they were instrumental in helping her find ways to take care of the younger woman.

Emily was now staring at her, still stirring the coffee even though that had stopped being necessary several minutes ago. JJ cleared her throat again, hoping to alleviate some of the awkwardness that now filled the room. She took a few steps toward Emily, who did the same. Emily handed JJ one of the mugs, and suddenly nothing was more fascinating to either woman that the steaming mug of fresh joe in their hands.

JJ was the first to break the silence.

"Thank you," she said, holding up the mug a little so Emily could see what she was referring to. It did look like there was more she wanted to say, but the words would not come.

"Anytime." Emily reached up hesitantly to touch JJ on the elbow, and at the contact, JJ turned toward her and looked back. "Hey, Jayje … are you okay? You look tired. Is everything alright at home?"

"Yeah, no, I'm fine, everyone is fine. Just couldn't sleep, you know?" Emily did know. Insomnia was something she and the blonde shared. The bulk of the text messages they sent each other came in the middle of the night when one or both of them had trouble sleeping. "There aren't any cases yet, just some consults, so I should be able to catch up on my sleep tonight. It's not a problem that near-lethal amounts of coffee can't solve," she said, smirking a little.

"Yeah, I bet. Are you sure you're okay?" Emily said, unable and unwilling to hide her concern.

"Really, Em, I'm fine. I would tell you if I thought something was wrong." JJ became intrigued by the pattern of the carpet on the floor.

"So, uh … we're okay, right?" Emily sounded worried.

"We're okay, Em. What you, I mean … erm, it's a lot. It's going to take time to figure it all out. I don't know what any of it means yet for me. But you don't have to worry about that, because no matter how it all ends up, you and I will always be okay. I never want us to be an issue."

"Good. Me, either. I couldn't stand it if we ever were."

"Yeah, so … want to walk with me back to my office?" JJ tilted her head back down the hallway. Emily nodded in response, and they walked out.

When they arrived, JJ handed Emily a stack of folders.

"From the looks of what I've read so far, you'll all just be consulting this week. I haven't come across any cases that require the attention of the entire team. These are the cases I want you to work on. And if I were you, I'd start with the one on the top." The blonde emphasized the last sentence, looking Emily directly in the eye, hoping she would understand what she meant. It wasn't like JJ to tell the older woman how to do her job or what to prioritize, so something else must be going on. Emily knew there was a clue missing that prevented her from comprehending just what the younger woman was talking about, so she just nodded and headed back to her desk to start working. JJ followed her out so she could distribute the remaining files to the desks of the other team members.

After setting down her coffee and arranging the papers, pens, and pencils on her desk so they would be accessible but out of the way, she picked up the first file. As soon as she opened it, she knew why JJ had brought it to her attention. Inside, on top of the usual forms and case information, was a plain white envelope with her name on it. The handwriting was unmistakably JJ's. She glanced over her shoulder at the clock on the wall to determine if she had enough time to read the letter. No one else was due for another half hour at least, so she leaned back in her chair and began reading.

_Dear Emily, _

_Before I say anything else, let me make something absolutely clear: You will never __need to ask me to forgive you for your feelings. I already knew that what happened last week was very hard on you, and I also knew that there was more going on that you were ready to tell me. I _was_ hurt, not because you were abrupt and cold with all of us, including me, but because I'd never seen you so broken. You didn't come to me or let me come to you. I felt helpless, and that hurt. I hate to see you in any kind of pain; all I wanted to do was to comfort you, but you wouldn't let me in. I know it has been hard for you to learn to trust people, but we already trust each other with our lives. How much more could it be to ask that we trust each other with our hearts, too? Surely, we would be able to protect the heart as well as we do the life it gives. So please, Emily, promise me something. Promise me that the next time you feel lost, you will let me find you. You never have to go through anything like that alone._

_Thank you for writing to me. Thank you for telling me your story. I can only imagine how difficult it was for you to open up like that about a chapter of your life that, in spite of how long ago it happened, remains raw for you. I know how much you hate letting others see you that vulnerable. I hope you are willing to let me help you ease your grief. You've lost so much in the last week—don't lose yourself, too._

_I don't know what to say here. For probably the first time in my life, I can't seem to find the right words. Those three words you wrote to me have shaken me to my core and threaten to forever alter the foundation of who I am, who I always thought that I was. I haven't been able to think about anything else since I read your letter._

_Look, Emily, I don't know what to do with those words right now. I respect you and our friendship too much to pretend that you didn't write what you wrote or that you don't truly feel what you say you feel for me. I know that those words are precious to you, that you don't say them quickly or easily or to just anyone. I think that your love would be immensely powerful, and I am both flattered and honored that you find me worthy of it. Because of your letter, I now know without a doubt who I am to you. That is an important question to answer, but unfortunately, three equally important questions remain. Who am I to Will? Who is Will to me? And most critically—who are _you_ to me?I can't promise the answers will come quickly, but I __can_ _promise that I will devote as much time as possible to finding them. For you. For me. For whatever future we might face. You are one of the best friends I have ever had, and I owe it to you to take enough time to do this right. No shortcuts; that will only hurt us both in the end._

_Read this next part very carefully, Emily, because I want to make sure it sinks in. It may take days, weeks, or even months for me to figure out who I am and what that means for us. You and I are headed for some very uncertain times, and doubt can be debilitating if we aren't careful. Just remember that our jobs have trained us how to live with uncertainty, with doubt. No matter how much we uncover during a case, the facts are never enough to lay all of the questions to rest. There will always be things we don't or can't know about a case, even after it's solved. The same holds true for us. There will always be times when we wonder, "What if …?" Please don't let the doubt win when you find it. That doubt should be where your faith comes in. Please keep believing in me, Emily. I am going to need to your faith in me to help me find my way. And know that I have never been more certain of anything than I am to say to you that however difficult the tests our present and future may bring, you will always have me by your side._

_Love, _

_JJ_

Emily grabbed the letter and its envelope and half walked, half stumbled her way back to JJ's door. She rapped her knuckles on the door, but didn't move when JJ answered that she could come in. After a few seconds, the door opened, and JJ found Emily frozen in place, with her hand poised to knock on her door again. She gently placed her hand on the brunette's wrist and lowered it, wrapping her hand around it and leading her inside. She closed the door and helped Emily, still frozen, but with newly glistening eyes, over to the couch. Maintaining her light grip on Emily's wrist, JJ wrapped her other arm around her waist and pulled her into a tight hug. Only when Emily was sure that JJ's arms were really around her, that she wasn't dreaming, did she finally relax.

"Hey. Em, it's okay. It's okay now. I'm here, sweetie. Just let it out," she whispered in her friend's ear. Emily's only response was to turn her head and bury her face further in the younger woman's shoulder. JJ tilted her head up and placed a small kiss on the top of Emily's head. Her body shook as she sobbed, but JJ kept soothing her and rubbing her back. After a few minutes, Emily's tears had mostly subsided, but she stayed in JJ's arms, savoring the warmth and safety she found there.

"Hey, Sunshine, how was your we—" Garcia said, as she flew into the room, stopping when she saw the rather intimate and vulnerable position that her two friends were in. "Never mind. I'll come back later." Garcia left as quickly as she entered.

Emily lifted her head off of the blonde's shoulder and looked at JJ with a mixture of gratitude, love, and confusion. JJ only responded by kissing her softly on the forehead. Emily turned around and leaned back into JJ, still not willing to leave the safety of her embrace. They stayed there, each just enjoying the time together, for several minutes before one of them finally spoke.

The blonde looked at the brunette. "Better?" She asked the question so quietly Emily almost didn't hear her.

Emily nodded, smiling a little for the first time. "Better. Thanks."

"You know I'm here for you if you ever need to talk or anything. I'm a pretty good listener."

"Yep, I know. I don't know when I'll be ready to talk about it again. For the moment, I think I'm better off writing if I do anything at all. But you'll be the first person to know when that changes. Oh, and Jayje?"

Emily sat up and turned back so that she was facing her friend. She wanted to make sure that she was able to look her in the eye when she spoke again.

"Yes?"

Brown eyes collided with blue as Emily spoke. "Thank you."

"For what, sweetie?"

"For just now. For not throwing my letter away. For not finding me ridiculous or weak. For not letting us … change. For not letting me lose you. I was … worried. About us. About how you would take it."

"Em, honey, it's fine. I told you, I want you around. You mean too much to me to give up because your feelings have changed, and mine …. I can't lose you. I won't let you be lost. So don't worry about us, okay? I'm never going to let anything happen to us. You are far too important."

They fell silent again, and then Emily stood up and straightened her shirt and jacket, and smoothed her pants.

"I should probably get going. Some evil taskmaster gave me a stack of paperwork up to here [holding her index finger halfway up her throat] and she gets vicious when I turn it in late."

"Sounds dangerous, " said JJ, grinning. "You should really watch yourself around her, then. Especially if she's armed."

"Yeah, unfortunately for me and my procrastinating ways, she's one of the best shots in the Bureau. See you around, Jayje. Thanks again," Emily said over her shoulder as she walked out.

JJ stood up and returned to her desk, thinking she might try to work again, but then realized that it would be futile with all that had just happened in the last hour. Especially since part of it had not escaped the notice of her omniscient blonde friend. She exited her office and walked briskly to the tech goddess's "lair." She knew that even though Garcia had only seen JJ and Emily for a few seconds, they would have enough to talk about to fill several hours.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: The writers of Criminal Minds and CBS own these characters. If I owned them, JJ and Emily would have been canon since season 3. Since I don't, I am not responsible for the rip in the time-space continuum left by their absence.**

**Pairing: JJ/Emily, femslash**

JJ hadn't finished knocking on the door of Garcia's office before the door opened and she was ushered inside and led to the chair next to the tech goddess. The two women looked at each other for a few seconds, each waiting for the other to speak first. Garcia quickly tired of the silence.

"I've been expecting you, you know," she said. "Would you like to tell me what I saw this morning?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do you mean, what do I mean? What's going on with you and Emily? You two looked pretty cozy on your couch."

"I … We—never mind."

"Hon, I'm omniscient, remember? I already know everything, so you should just spill it. Especially since you know I will just find out for myself, anyway. So tell me. What happened over the weekend that drove our brown-eyed girl into your arms in tears?"

JJ mulled over her answer before she responded. She knew that the tech analyst was relentless, especially when it came to her BAU family, and no more so than when it regarded one of her two best friends. She wasn't going to drop the subject until she had the whole truth. And part of JJ just wanted to tell her and get it over with. It was becoming too much to hold in. She took a deep breath.

"Part of it is that she is just starting to grieve over her friend Matthew. I don't think she allowed his death to sink in until the case was over. Now it's hitting her all at once that he's really gone."

"Sounds reasonable. I still don't know their whole story, but I know guilt and regret when I see them, and Emily seemed to start drowning in both when she found out he had died. But Jayje, you said that was part of it. What's the other part? What aren't you telling me?"

"I got a letter this weekend. From Emily."

"A letter? Why on earth would she need to write to you when you were already going to see each other at work today? What did she need to tell you that couldn't wait?"

"Well, part of it was a full explanation of what happened to her and John and Matthew when they were all in Italy. And the other part was to tell me that she …." JJ trailed off.

"She what? What was that you mumbled?" Garcia demanded, sounding impatient.

"She loves me." JJ said, her voice cracking a little.

"Sweet Mary and Joseph. She WHAT? She _loves _you?"

"Yes. She loves me," JJ's voice was gaining confidence.

"But she's … and you're … and I'm not making any sense. How long?"

"How long what?"

"Oh, please, I know you're not this dense, Jareau. How long has she loved you, silly? Did she say?"

"She says she has since our eyes first met."

"Jesus, Jayje. That's what, three whole years? What about you, though? What are you going to do?"

"Well, I wrote back to her already. She read my letter this morning. I basically told her that I had no idea she felt that way, and that I would need time to figure things out. I also told her that I wasn't going to let anything interfere with our friendship—it's far too important to me. She came to my office right after she finished reading what I wrote, and started crying as soon as I answered the door. She was so relieved that she wasn't going to lose me as her best friend that she just broke down. I was consoling her when you walked in."

"How serious is this, JJ?" Garcia asked after pausing for a minute to process everything she'd just heard.

"I think it's serious. I mean, I have no idea how I feel, but we're talking about Emily, right? Emily Prentiss doesn't just fall in love, and she definitely doesn't want to share that famous compartmentalized heart of hers with just anyone. She guards it with her life. It's easier to get into Fort Knox."

"I feel like I need to ask you again, JJ. What about you? Where are you in all this?" Garcia asked pointedly.

"I'm not sure, Garcia. I have had two days to take it in, and I'm no closer to knowing how I feel than I was when I first read her letter. Clearly, the fact that someone I work with so closely has been in love with me for all these years without my noticing it shows that I haven't been paying close enough attention to the people around me. Apparently, I've had blinders on for a long while now when it comes to the people I care about. That bothers me a lot, and it needs to change. I have to keep my eyes open from now on. I've got a lot of thinking to do."

"Apparently." Garcia nodded. "How much does Will know?"

"Nothing yet. I think I need to figure out where I stand in all of this before I tell him. There's less chance anyone will get hurt that way. I mean, I don't _want _to hurt anyone. I just don't see how it can be avoided. Somebody has to lose. Maybe both of them if it turns out I don't really love either of them the way they love me. I can't stand the thought of doing that to either of them. I can't lose them, Garcia, either of them. Will is the father of my child, and Emily is one of the most important people in my life. I just can't ..."

"Oh, sweetheart, come here." Garcia wrapped her arms around her blond friend and squeezed her tight. JJ found Garcia's shoulder just in time for it to catch the tears that stormed down her cheek.

When her breathing had slowed and her face was nearly dry, JJ released her grip on the tech analyst and sat up, wiping her remaining tears.

"Do you know what else Emily said?" JJ continued without waiting for an answer. "She said that if I had to ask her to leave in order to keep my family together, she would. She would leave the BAU, even the FBI, if I needed her to. How could I possibly ask her to do that?"

"You know, it's kind of a strange luck you have, Jayje." JJ looked a little bewildered.

"How's that?"

"Well, for most people, it's enough of a challenge to find someone in this world who we can get along with. But you already have someone who gave up his life and moved more than a thousand miles to be with you so he could make you happy. And now you have someone else who would give up everything she worked for here and move a thousand miles away or more just to make you happy. Look, I don't envy the decisions you are going to have to make, or all the soul searching you are going to have to do in order to make those decisions. But I have to say, I think you're pretty lucky to have people in your life who love you that much. I think even Reid could quote you the statistical probability of finding that kind of love, not once but twice in a lifetime. I think it's probably easier to get struck by lightning twice than to find what you have."

JJ smiled and said, "Yeah, I guess I am pretty lucky."

"Great. Glad you figured that out. Now get out of my office before Hotch catches us goofing off." Garcia made a playful shooing motion with her hands and gave the other blonde a gentle shove toward the door.

The media liaison had one hand on the door handle when Garcia spoke again.

"JJ?"

"Yes?"

"You're going to figure this all out. It's going to be okay for everyone, all right? If you ever doubt that, just remember that I am omniscient. I know that it will work out because I know everything. You'll see."

"Thanks, Garcia."

"Anytime, Sunshine."

Back in her office, JJ sat down behind her desk and set a file in front of her. She bit her lip for a second then smiled, giving a small wave to the security camera on her ceiling.

Even though she knew JJ couldn't see her, Garcia smiled and waved back.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Nope, I still don't own these characters. And I think enough time has passed for you to realize that this isn't just a trend, but a sad reality.**

**Pairing: JJ/Emily, femslash**

Things had been sliding for a couple of months now, and Will had no idea how to stop it. Something was changing with JJ, and though he couldn't quite put his finger on it, whatever it was had started off so nearly imperceptible that he couldn't see the problems until they were out of his control. He'd never felt so helpless.

The changes started in JJ's eyes, in the way she looked at him. When they first started dating, each time their eyes met, hers were a somewhat awkward blend of excitement, uncertainty, and shyness that he found surprising. It was a side of the media liaison he had not expected, given the ease and confidence with which she controlled the often unruly and spiteful press, the generosity and compassion she showed for all of the victims and especially their families, and the tremendous inner strength she demonstrated before the monsters the BAU hunted. Some of the cases got to her more than others, but she never let anyone see her crumble. Until Will.

One night, when their relationship was still new, before Emily had "outed" them as a couple, JJ had flown down to see him after a particularly brutal series of child murders. When he picked her up at the airport, there was a distance in her eyes he'd never seen before. It was as though what she had seen bothered her so much that she tried to put as much apace between it and herself as possible, as though she could retreat enough inside herself that what was terrifying her would be nothing more than a dot on a distant horizon, and just as threatening. When they arrived at his house, JJ had simply taken Will by the hand and walked upstairs to his bedroom, where she just clung to him and cried until morning. It was at that moment, watching her tears soak his chest as the glow of first light poured in through the windows, that he realized that he loved her, and as he kissed the trail her tears had left on her cheek and chin, he promised himself that he would do everything in his power to protect her from all the terrible things she saw.

When they awoke the next morning, however, JJ's expression had changed. What only a few hours before had been vulnerable and almost helpless was now confident and nearly brazen in its dismissal. Still, Will saw doubt and fear when he looked at JJ, and he was almost certain they were more to do with him than with any of the criminals that had plagued her the night before. He wasn't sure if she was doubting him or herself, but that was the first time Will thought he might be losing her. She was retreating again, and this time, it was from him.

He believed that he had lost her for good in Miami when she broke up with him rather than tell her team that they were dating. She told him that if everyone knew about them, then it would be real, and that meant that someone could get hurt. He protested, trying in every way he could to make her understand that they _were _real already, that whatever it was they were was the most real thing he'd ever had, that it was a good thing, even a great thing that what most people dreamed about was real, was really theirs—what more could anyone ever want? He was here, and he loved her. He was sure she loved him, just as he was also sure that she feared loving him completely. Love was nothing to fear, he knew. Once you gave into it, there was no stronger force on the planet, no greater protection, and no higher cause. When she ran over to him as he was packing his things at the police station, he thought she finally understood what he had been trying to tell her all this time. Her kiss was passionate, confident, and full of desire and need. She needed all the strength, hope, and protection he alone could give her. He thought then that JJ was finally ready to give in. Will had a great deal of faith in love, and he thought maybe JJ was starting to have a little faith in it, too. Love was indeed an incredibly powerful thing if it could allow two people to begin again at the point where they were both convinced they would be ending.

For a long while after that, they were fine. Once it became official that they were together, he started to see a warmth and a sense of security in JJ that hadn't been there before. Love was an anchor for them both; it enabled them to travel and live great distances from each other and still return, picking up where they left off as though nothing had changed. Day by day, Will formed an ever clearer image of his future with JJ, and he was sure that one day, he would be able to make her his family.

Will was thrilled when JJ called him late one night to tell him that she was pregnant. Though he tried to hide his excitement when it became obvious from his girlfriend's worried tone that she did not share his joy, he could not entirely erase the smile from his face or his voice as they tried to figure out what this pregnancy meant for them. Will was finally getting the family he had wanted for most of his life. He was going to get the chance to have what his parents had.

After a celebratory beer, Will left the bar and made two purchases. The first he folded and stuffed in his back pocket until it was time to hand it to the flight attendant at the gate, and the second he kept in the pocket of his sport coat until he knelt down in front of JJ after dinner at her favorite restaurant and offered it to her. She had looked away and was silent for what felt like several lifetimes, and when she finally met his eyes, she said that she wasn't ready for that big of a step, that this was all happening too fast for her. He knew it was fast; after all, they had only been together for a few months, but he also knew that it didn't matter how fast things were moving if they were moving in the right direction. And it felt right to him that they should be together, especially now that there would be three of them. He wanted more than anything for JJ to allow him to take care of her in this way. But when he met her gaze, he saw her retreating again, and the doubt and fear returned. And he realized that he was losing her for the third time.

He was absolutely convinced that he had lost her for good when he flew up to New York to beg her to stay at the FBI regional branch instead of heading out to track down the people responsible for a series of shootings that spanned nearly all the boroughs of the city. He felt he was doing the right thing. It was his duty, not just as her boyfriend, but as someone who loved her, to protect her and the tiny fragile life inside her from any harm. It was how he intended to honor the silent promise he had made to her all those months ago. They got into a fight, which only escalated when he told her that the women he worked with on the New Orleans police force always always quit their jobs without hesitation if they found out they were pregnant. She was appalled, and with an intensity and anger she normally reserved for criminals, she told him in no uncertain terms that anyone who didn't understand why she could not, and indeed _should _not quit chasing down all of the evil in the world, _especially _now that she had a child to consider, well, that was obviously someone who didn't understand her at all. Because her job was more important than ever now that she had someone who needed to be protected from all of the evil in the world.

She didn't know it, but he did understand, because he felt the same way about her that she felt about her job and their child. They just had different ideas about what it meant to protect, and what exactly creating a safer world entailed. He knew he couldn't root out all of the evil in people—there had always been too much, and there always would be. Instead, he wanted to create a bubble around the three of them that would shield them just from the dangers that came close enough to touch them. It would be enough for him if he could be sure his family was safe.

After the fight, Will sat in their hotel room and tried to figure out his next step, what the next right thing would be. Doing right by people was ingrained in him. It was central to how he was raised. Will was just one of a long line of LaMontagne gentlemen that stretched back to the days of the Confederacy. He knew that everything he had done so far with respect to JJ had been the right thing, and that his daddy was looking down on him from heaven with pride. By this point, Will was hurting so much because of JJ that he half-expected to see visible bruises on the skin of his chest over his heart. Her love had damaged his heart so much that he was sure that the day was approaching when he would not be able to recover anymore.

So he pulled himself together, packed his bag, and did what he believed was the next right thing. He removed his detective's shield from the inside pocket of his jacket and placed it in a large manilla envelope along with a short note informing JJ that he was flying back to New Orleans. Envelope in one hand, he hailed a cab with the other, and following a brief ride to the regional office of the FBI to deliver the package, he returned to the hotel to wait until it was time to leave for the airport.

She had returned to him almost immediately, and as she kissed him goodbye before they parted ways, he to the airport and she to the office, he saw the same doubt and fear he had seen before, but also a hope and a growing confidence and—was that love?—that persuaded him that they were going to be fine. Their anchor had brought her back to him once again.

The pregnancy had gone smoothly and Will and JJ quickly fell into a routine. She needed him again, just like she had the night he fell in love with her, and he threw himself joyfully into the trips to the twenty-four hour supermarket in the middle of the night to track down whatever bizarre food combos she was craving, and into finding ways to soothe and calm her when her turbulent hormones got the better of her. She still flew out on cases with the team until it became impossible to travel, but he was okay with that because she always came back and always seemed relieved to see him. Before he knew it, he was holding his son in his arms, learning how to change diapers, and being awakened by JJ in the middle of the night so she could remind him that it was his turn to feed Henry and put him back to sleep. His life was chaotic, but Will had never felt more fulfilled.

Things began to slide when JJ went back to work. She had decided to end her maternity leave a few weeks early because she was tired of hearing all of the complaints about the terrible job her replacement was doing. Will was bitter; it seemed to him that JJ couldn't get away from him and Henry fast enough. He had hoped that once Henry was born, that he would be a new anchor for them, something else to remind her to come home where she was needed. Nothing made her happier than returning to the BAU, and every anecdote she shared with him about something someone on the team had done or said stabbed him in the heart. Her job was important, sure, but it was still a _job_. Her family should have been everything to her. Nothing was supposed to make her happier than him. When she returned to work, he felt like he had lost her again, that he was being replaced. The fact that he had been unable to find a job in either DC or Virginia did not help matters. He was starting to get depressed, but could not count on her support. They fought constantly.

Over the course of several months, the doubt in her eyes eventually gave way to disappointment, and it always seemed that she was searching for something in him that she never found. He was desperate to find out what it was she wanted, so he could give it to her, but her eyes had always held more questions than answers for him. She began to retreat again, and even when they made love, which was increasingly rare, she looked so hopeless and tired that he sometimes had to turn his head to keep from crying. Even when she was in his arms, she never felt further away. When he tried to hold her, she would roll away from him and sleep with her back toward him the rest of the night.

Eventually, he noticed that she was putting so much space in between them that the gap could practically accommodate another person. Will wondered if that was on purpose, if there was someone else she was trying to make room for beside her. Sometimes it seemed she moved to the edge of the bed and even checked over her shoulder to confirm the distance between her and Will, as if she wanted to be sure there was enough space. Soon enough, nearly every night was spent with the three of them: JJ, Will, and this invisible third person who had managed to become such a vivid obstacle to Will in his quest to conquer JJ's heart. And what was disappointment in JJ's eyes became heartbreak for them both.

He was starting to realize that the doubt and fear he had seen before was about him; every time she looked at him, she was wondering if he was enough for her. He wanted with all he had to be everything she ever wanted, but he wasn't, and he had no idea why, no clue what he could do to fix it. He was losing her, and he never was so afraid of a loss in his whole life. Because he knew that if she retreated from him again, she wasn't going to come back. The anchor was falling apart, and though he swam after it and tried to salvage every piece he could find, there were so many that he was helpless to keep it from slipping away, and he knew the tide would take whatever he could not hold onto.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I claim nothing but my own skin and all that lies beneath it. The characters in this story are not mine, but the ideas are.**

**Pairing: JJ/Emily, femslash**

**A/N: I don't have cable, so all I could watch of AJ Cook's final episode last night were the dribs and drabs that CBS posted on its website. What I saw seemed remarkably subversive in its writing and delivery; each line the main characters said to one another could have just as easily been said by the cast outside of the show. Both teams are being broken up by the powers that be because together, they are just too good—especially JJ/AJ and Emily/Paget—and because making those kinds of decisions without any actual reason but that they _can_ makes them feel powerful. (Hey, if the profile fits ….) They are a family, as they demonstrated by all that they did to stick by AJ and Paget during their contract negotiations, even going so far in some cases to sign the petition to restore both women to the show full time. It also did not escape notice that when Strauss and JJ were discussing JJ's family, and the sacrifices she had made to keep her job at the BAU, no mention whatsoever was made of Will, only Henry. Fascinating ….**

"You haven't been sleeping." The tone was as gentle as it was matter-of-fact.

JJ groaned and burrowed her face further into the crook of her elbow and refused to lift her head off of her desk. Was it that obvious? She'd done everything she could to hide her exhaustion from the team, but there comes a point where no amount of makeup or coffee can cover up the truth. (Apparently, she'd reached that point.) Because the truth was that she hadn't slept in nearly a week and couldn't remember the last full night's rest she'd had. She felt a hand on her shoulder and a slight squeeze, and with some effort, she sat up and turned towards the owner of the hand.

Emily's expression was both warm and concerned as she lifted a couple of fingers to brush away the strands of hair that had fallen into JJ's face. JJ closed her eyes and leaned into the fingers, cursing a little as they were withdrawn. Emily's touch was something she had grown accustomed to over the last few months. They were seeking each other out more often, sitting together on the jet, standing a little too close while either awaiting instructions from Hotch or trying to make sense of the evidence board; their hands grazed as they walked by each another, and on some of these occasions, Emily would also place a protective, if not slightly possessive, hand on the small of the blonde's back as they passed by. Although there were dozens of such small shows of affection accumulating, for JJ they were all occasions, each as vivid in her mind as her most important memories. It was remarkable to her that a gesture as small as a few fingertips resting on her forearm could now distract her for hours. In fact, the better she got to know the profiler, the more distracted she found herself becoming by even the most inconsequential movements and words.

"What's going on, JJ?" Emily asked, interrupting JJ's quickly derailing train of thought. "I understand that sometimes when we're away on cases, we see things that make it hard to sleep. I get that; I really do. But Jayje, you're coming back from a weekend at _home_, and you look worse now than you did when you left. So tell me … what gives?"

JJ sighed, unsure of how to answer. Emily was still her best friend, though since her confession several months ago, their conversations had to walk a new and much finer line than was necessary before. No matter how much Emily cared for their friendship and wanted to be there for her, and no matter how much JJ _wanted _her to be there, the fact remained that Emily was also in love with JJ, and that meant that some subjects were always going to be off limits. Like the subject of the problems and she and Will were having, including those that caused sleep deprivation. Broaching the subject of Will would make the brunette uncomfortable, and the blonde had been making a concerted effort lately to ensure that there would be no awkwardness between them.

"It's Will, isn't it?" Emily's eyes narrowed a little.

JJ cursed again under her breath. Now that Emily brought him up, she wouldn't be able to steer the conversation elsewhere or pretend that her problems had nothing to do with him. The profiler knew how to tell when a person was lying, and unfortunately for JJ, she was extremely good at her job. She decided to save time and just confess.

"Yes. How could you tell?" JJ asked plaintively. There was a hint of exasperation in her voice.

Emily grinned. "You _do_ realize that reading people is my job, right?"

"Yes, yes, I know. But even though that's the case, being omniscient isn't part of your job description—that's all Garcia. And I thought I was doing a decent job of hiding it. So what gave it away, Sherlock?"

"Sherlock?" Emily's grin widened. "Why, it was elementary, my dear Watson," she said, while miming taking a few puffs on a tobacco pipe.

JJ groaned again and leaned her head back against the chair.

"Shut up, Emily."

Emily chuckled. "It's not like you made it particularly challenging for me. You're superb at what you do, Agent Jareau, but your skills and knowledge as an FBI agent would not transfer well to the criminal world—you are way too obvious and leave behind too much evidence. For one thing, we are all well aware by now of the long, torrid affair you've been having with coffee, with what many suspect are five or six dalliances a day behind closed doors. But in the last week, you have managed to consume an amount of caffeine that would fell a large, load-bearing beast. Or a herd. At first, I chalked it up to nightmares because our cases lately have been increasingly disturbing, but then you came back after a long weekend in what appears to be your best zombie costume yet—and only six months shy of Halloween—and I figured that if you aren't sleeping at home, either, than it must be home that's keeping you awake. I know the problem isn't my perfect nephew, so that left Will as the only logical cause of your troubles." Her expression turned serious. "So seriously, Jayje, what's going on with you and Will?"

"I don't know," JJ said, her voice so low that if Emily hadn't been standing right next to her, she might have missed it altogether. The brunette positioned herself behind the blonde's chair and returned both of her hands to her shoulders, massaging her friend gently as she waited for JJ to continue.

"I don't know," repeated JJ. "I don't know what went wrong, and I have no idea how to fix it. It just seems like our lives together are just one big fight anymore, like we only talk to each other when we're arguing. Sometimes, we try to keep it together for Henry's sake, but then everything we do and say feels forced, and that's worse than fighting. And sometimes I look at Will, and I can see that he doesn't have any answers, either, and it seems like he's giving up. I can't let him do that, Em. Our whole relationship, the one thing I could always count on was that he would fight for us. I never really did." She paused and sucked in a breath at this realization. "Oh, my god, I never did. All these times I tried to run only to come back to him—it wasn't because I was fighting for our relationship, for _us_, it was because … I was letting him win."

"Why didn't you?" Emily asked.

"Huh?"

"If what you have with him is so important that you can't let it fail, then why didn't you fight for it? Why don't you fight for it now while you still have a chance of salvaging it? More to the point, why are you here late on a weeknight talking to me about it when you could be home trying to patch things up with him?"

JJ stiffened and turned angrily to Emily, who immediately dropped her hands. "For one thing, _Emily_, Will left this morning for his monthly trip back to New Orleans to visit his family. For another, I don't appreciate that you're making this problem, which I need not remind you is a problem between me and _Will_, not me and _you_, _my_ fault somehow. I don't appreciate anyone who calls herself my friend accusing me of sabotaging my relationship with the father of my son."

With that, JJ shifted in her seat so that she was facing away from Emily, hoping that her friend would not notice the tears that threatened to fall. But Emily was having none of it, and spun the chair around, kneeling on the carpet and taking JJ's hands in her own as she spoke.

"Jayje, honey, I need you to look at me." Her thumbs caressed the back of JJ's hands, causing her to sigh and reluctantly meet Emily's gaze.

"I'm going to need you to let me speak for a minute—without interruption—because there are some things that I have to say that you also have to hear. Please hear me when I tell you that I don't just call you my friend; you are the most important person in my life, not just now, but always. I have had my share of casual acquaintances and relationships, but I have never been casual when it comes to you, and I don't intend to start. So put that thought out of your mind, and think for a minute about what you just called Will. You referred to him as "the father of my son," which he, of course, is. But has it occurred to you that that's the only way you ever really refer to him if you aren't calling him by name? You never call him your boyfriend. Every time you refer to him, it's always in relation to Henry, and you hardly ever hear his name without hearing Henry's almost immediately thereafter. The two of _you _ never come up. You can't talk about Will by himself; you can't think about him without picturing Henry. Doesn't that seem strange to you? It seems like you only see him as a father, not as a boyfriend or as husband material—it's never about how he relates to _you_."

Emily squeezed JJ's hands and checked to be sure her friend was okay before she continued.

"I know this is a lot to take in, so please tell me if it becomes too much for you and I will stop. I've been watching you two from the sidelines for a long time, and it seems to me that while you are the love of Will's life, he has never been more to you than a casual boyfriend who stuck around to do right by you and Henry. He has always wanted more from you and your relationship than you were willing to give. It's why you broke up with him in Miami, and why he left you in New York. It's why you aren't married now, even though to everyone in the outside world and in both of your families, you have every reason to be. Your relationship has always had that imbalance. Part of that imbalance is in what you each want out of your relationship. Will envisions a small family living a quiet life in the suburbs. He wants to be a provider, a caretaker for you and Henry. You want to be the best media liaison in the history of the FBI, and you want to be the person who victims' families and cash-strapped detectives and sheriffs turn to in their hour of need. You want to be an incredible mother to Henry, and you feel that by doing your job well, you are doing all you can to keep him safe. But you have been fighting that white picket fence nuclear family your whole life. It's all Will wants from you and everything you have rejected your whole life. You can't build a relationship on that much discord. Neither of you are ever going to change what you want out of life; it's too important and you have each had your goals for too long. If you want to go back to him and try again, JJ, it will break my heart but I will understand because you told me the real reason. But if you don't, if you want to start over with me or someone else, you need to tell Will why. You need to tell him that he's not a bad guy if he doesn't feel like going after you anymore. He deserves the chance to pursue someone who wants to be caught, who wants the things he wants out of life. I don't want to chase you if you are chasing someone else, and I know Will doesn't, either."

"While we're on the subject, let's talk about where Henry fits into this. If you continue to stay with Will for Henry's sake, all three of you will be miserable, and you know it. Your relationship with Will is not about your son, and it's time you realized that. You and Henry could be very happy on your own, but if being with Will is making you so miserable that you can't sleep and probably aren't eating much, either, then it's taking its toll on Henry, too. Because you are now so sad and so sick of being sad that you aren't able to enjoy your time with him like you used to. Henry's just been getting his basic needs met the last few days, right? You're a great mother, Jayje, so how long are you going to allow this to continue before you start taking care of yourself and figure out what _you _need to be happy so that you can make sure Henry is happy, too? It's not fair to him for you to go on like this."

"Will is a lot like me, JJ. He'll do anything to make you happy, even if that means walking away. You need to ask yourself if that is what you need him to do. And be honest with him; if you are going to break his heart, he should know the real reason why. He has earned the right not to wonder."

JJ's eyes were brimming. She looked at Emily. "Are you finished?"

Emily simply nodded, and JJ rose from her seat. As she was doing so, she pulled Emily to a standing position, and without waiting to be sure Emily was fully on her feet again, threw her arms around her neck and placed one lingering kiss on the brunette's cheek, tracing it lightly afterward with her thumb. Emily tugged JJ closer to her, and held her tightly as all the tears and anguish and doubt and fear she had been keeping pent up inside her were released. Several minutes passed before JJ was calm again, but neither woman made a move to leave. JJ was reveling in the soft strength of Emily's embrace, powerful yet kind; it was so incredibly comforting to be held by her. Emily just held her breath, knowing how lucky she was just to be standing her with her arms wrapped around the woman she loved more than the world, more than her life or anyone else's … such solace and immense good fortune do not often cross paths, so she held her breath, hoping the moment would not pass too quickly.

JJ was about to break away from Emily when her friend spoke up.

"You know, there is still one more pressing issue to resolve tonight, Agent Jareau." Emily smiled slyly.

"Oh? And what might that be, Agent Prentiss?" JJ's expression matched Emily's.

Keeping her arms on either side of the media liaison, Emily extended them and let her eyes glaze over and her jaw slacken as she staggered forward, pushing JJ along with her.

"Reid … Reid …" she moaned.

JJ giggled, and said, "Don't you mean 'Brains?'"

"There's a difference?" Emily winced as JJ punched her in the arm. "Ouch. You're violent when you don't get enough sleep. Come on, Zombie JJ, I'll drive you back to your house before anyone else gets hurt. And before you ask, Garcia already said she would be delighted to take care of Henry tonight, so don't even worry about it. He's safe in his Auntie Pen's spoiling hands."

JJ shut the light off and followed Emily out to the parking garage. Emily opened the door for her, and chuckled when JJ complimented her on what a gentleman she was being.

"How do you know I'm not doing this just to make sure you don't slam the door and hurt my car?"

JJ rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. Don't you trust me?"

"With my life. Not my car."

"Shut up and drive, princess. I promise that your precious car won't feel a thing."

"What kind of promise is that? Am I supposed to be comforted because you will hurt the car, but it won't feel any pain?"

"You clearly skipped over the first part of my statement. Shut up and drive."

The ride back to JJ's house was friendly. When they pulled into the driveway, JJ was surprised to see Emily follow her toward the house.

"I knew you were big on chivalrous deeds, Em, but really, I can make it into the house just fine on my own."

"Oh, no, you don't. I'm staying with you. I promised Garcia I would make sure you got some actual rest tonight. She's quite tired of seeing you grumpy, and you know we can't disappoint her."

"Guilt trips aren't what I wanted to go on tonight, but I'm too tired to fight you on it. Come on, and I'll show you to the guest room."

JJ went to the bathroom while Emily changed into a pair of sleeping boxers and a t-shirt that JJ had laid out for her. They traded places and JJ slipped into an outfit similar to that she loaned to Emily. Emily sat on the bed opposite JJ, and helped her slide in beneath the sheets. After adjusting the blankets around her, she placed a chaste kiss on JJ's forehead and wished her good night.

Before she reached the door, Emily turned around to face JJ, whose eyes were nearly closed. "If you need anything, Jayje, just yell. I'll be here as fast as I can."

"Thanks, Em. Good night."

"Sweet dreams, angel."

When JJ awoke the next day, she was surprised to find that Emily was up, dressed, and eating what appeared to be several slices of pizza.

"Pizza for breakfast? Really? Who delivers this early?"

"Well, given that it is actually almost three o'clock in the afternoon, pretty much everyone. And it isn't breakfast—at least, it's not _my _breakfast. I had that hours ago. But it could be your breakfast if you wanted, unless you would rather I made you something else."

"No, pizza's fine. It's one of my favorite guilty pleasures to have for breakfast, anyway."

"This is probably a ridiculous question, but how did you sleep last night?"

"I haven't felt this relaxed and rested in since I left home. What are you still doing here, though? Shouldn't you be at work? Shouldn't we both be at work?"

"Nope. I called Hotch bright and early this morning to let him know that you needed to use one of the dozens of sick days that have been piling up. He knew how tired you had been and agreed that there was no way you could continue to work unless you got some rest. So I took one of my equally many sick days to make sure you did just that. Now why don't you help yourself to some of the pizza while I go let Garcia know you are up. She's been texting me every hour asking for status updates. If you're nice, she might let you talk to your son, who is keeping her company in the lair today."

"_If _ I'm nice? When am I not nice?"

"Uh … Yeah, I need to make that phone call. Right. Now. Enjoy your pizza." She deftly sidestepped the crust JJ threw at her and left the room.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: These characters belong not to me, but to the writers of Criminal Minds and the executives of CBS, who neither value what they have nor realize what they are losing.**

**Pairing: JJ/Emily, femslash**

Emily was having a nightmare again, and it disturbed her— because it was not the vivid kind of nightmare that made her pulse race and left her screaming herself awake, but rather an inexorable darkness punctuated by the occasional sound of a set of approaching footsteps or a creaking floorboard, a place suffocated by shadows and with no exit come morning. These were not like her usual nightmares, which were terrifying but more obvious in content; images of bodies of recent victims from a case, for example. When she awoke from her usual nightmares, she was often breathless, covered in sweat, and tangled in her sheets. After a while, once she found a way to distract herself, she could fall back to sleep with a little effort, and the nightmare might not return for a night or two. Eventually, it would either fade away or be replaced by another, and the cycle would renew itself. But not this time. This dream was different, and she had been having it every single night for nearly two weeks.

There were no monsters in this dream, nothing chasing her but her own inescapable loneliness. There was no one to save her, no one to help her find her way through it. Daylight could not end it, and each night, it began anew. She woke up to find tears in her eyes and on her pillow, and could not shake the fear that this would be her life; a bed abandoned half-empty in the morning and crept into half-full at night, one side cool and still, the other tossed and warm. She could tell you the number of weeks (~14.5), even of hours (2430) that had passed since her first letter to JJ. Waiting for the hours to pass was agonizing for her. Waiting for JJ was beginning to take its toll. Emily was a creature of habit; she was used to schedules and planning and starting her day with a fairly clear picture of how it would end, and she was unnerved now by how much she didn't know about the time that lay before her. She became increasingly agitated and jumpy, especially around the blonde. She wanted to run from her gaze, her touch, but could not find the strength. She wanted to hold her tongue when JJ was near, to keep from whispering in her ear that she missed her, but she was not brave enough or she was too brave. She wanted to be enough for JJ, but found in herself either too much or too little of what she needed. Never in her life had she struggled as much with knowing when to speak and when to stay silent; the whole of her childhood was spent learning just that lesson, and she was failing with JJ at every turn.

Emily knew that JJ was struggling, too. She was fighting a two-front war with her and Will. The last thing the brunette ever wanted to do was to make JJ's situation more difficult, but it seemed like the further the two women roamed beyond their friendship, the worse things became for both of them. Emily craved JJ's company, and found herself longing for the media liaison when she strayed further than her extended arms could reach. And Emily could tell from the lingering gaze of the younger woman, the way her eyes fixed on her even when she wasn't saying or doing anything, that JJ was finding it as hard to be around her as it was painful not to be. They were able to maintain their professionalism while at work, but doing so exhausted them both. Distance was becoming a burden. They could not get close enough to satisfy either of them, and yet they were always too close—at least, in public. They tried not to have much time alone, because there was so much each of them wanted, even needed from the other that neither was yet prepared to give. Because their relationship was still nebulous, still in many ways waiting to begin. Until JJ figured out how to end things peaceably with Will, there were lines between them that could not be crossed.

Emily had tried everything she could think of that morning to fall back to sleep, but she was as restless as ever. She tried counting sheep, tried humming, tried forget her dream and the sound of her voice and the feel of her lips on her forehead, her cheek, the feel of her fingers in her hair and on her arm, the way they tangled their hands together without thinking, the way she smelled …the more she tried to forget, the more she remembered. It was hopeless. Thinking of JJ would not help her sleep—her heart raced and her face flushed too much to be the calming force she needed. She rubbed her face slowly and sighed, reaching out for her phone on the nightstand in her hotel room.

_Hey, you awake? _She typed slowly, her eyes still bleary.

A minute later a reply came.

_Yeah, can't sleep._

_Me, either. Nightmares again. Tried everything. Want to come over?_

The answer came in the form of a knock on the door several minutes later. Emily dragged herself out of bed and over to the door. After confirming the identity of her visitor, she opened the door and let her in.

JJ was wearing cotton pajama bottoms and a tank top, and her hair was still tousled from her many attempts to sleep. She tried to hide a yawn with one hand while she placed her other hand lightly on Emily's shoulder.

"Bad dreams, huh? Want to talk about them?"

"Honestly? Not really. I would rather just sleep. I think they'd go away if I could keep my eyes closed long enough."

"I can understand that. I've had those kinds of dreams before, the ones that don't disappear until you have exhausted yourself to the point where you don't dream anymore. Come on. Maybe between the two of us we can find a way to get some real rest tonight." JJ took Emily by the hand and walked over to the bed with her. They each climbed in, not looking at each other, not touching, fearing to breathe too loudly, fearing to move too soon. Emily stared at the ceiling, trying to find patterns in the plaster. JJ stared at her hands, which were laying on top of the sheets, absently twisting and untwisting them.

"Em?"

"Yeah?"

JJ rolled onto her stomach and reached across the bed to place her arm gingerly on top of the brunette's stomach, her fingers tracing small patterns on her t-shirt.

"Is that better?"

"No."

A flash of disappointment and hurt crossed JJ's eyes, but as she began to take her arm back, she felt a hand stop her. Emily slid herself closer to her friend and wrapped her arms around her waist.

"This … is better." JJ laid her head on Emily's chest and nodded in agreement. She sighed as she felt Emily's lips brush against her hair before resting a moment against her forehead.

"Good night," Emily whispered before pulling her head away.

"Night."

Emily didn't have that nightmare again that night, or any night thereafter. Instead she dreamed, and when she woke up, found that the dream continued as daylight streamed in through the window. It was real now; her arms held it, her lips kissed it—she could breathe it in, and nothing chased it away. She was no closer to knowing what the day would bring for her, for them both, but because the dream was finally real, Emily was ready to wait for JJ.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I own only my words and ideas, not the characters.**

**Pairing: JJ/Emily, femslash**

Look at me, Will pleaded silently. Please. The coffee table in front of him was now covered with files from JJ's office. JJ had her feet up on the table and was balancing a clipboard on her knees as a writing surface as she steadily worked her way through the files before her. It was rare for Will to see her work at home, especially since their son was born. She had made a point since his birth, in fact, of never bringing her work home with her. She felt that nothing should interfere with the limited time she had with Henry, and she also was concerned that she might be so disturbed by some of the crime scene and victim photographs from the files that she might change the way she held her son or the way she looked at him. But tonight, her work came home, and Will could not help but judge from the enormity of paperwork before her that this was yet another way for her to avoid contact with him. He believed his hypothesis was confirmed when he sat down on the other end of the couch after putting Henry to bed, and she had not even turned her head to acknowledge his presence.

Silence now dominated all of their interactions, as it had since each of them returned home from their respective journeys, JJ from a case in southern California, and Will from a week in New Orleans visiting his old friends and family. He found himself longing for those days in the rather recent past when they were still arguing. Anything was better than this consuming silence. He would give all he had to hear her voice again, even if it was raised in anger. He never thought there would come a day when the two of them would not be able to talk to each other. He was starting to forget the sound of her voice, struggled to remember the last time he heard love in it that was directed at him instead of Henry. He could not, just as he could not remember the last time she looked genuinely happy to see him.

Will started to rise from the couch, but he was stopped by the gentleness of a nearly forgotten hand and the kindness of a barely remembered voice.

"Will?" JJ sounded so tired and frustrated and lost. His only impulse was to reach out and hold her until those things faded away, but his hands remained at his side and no words of comfort or relief would come.

"We need to talk."

It was inevitable, but even though Will had wanted to say those words himself dozens of times, he had never despised anything so much as that sentence. The words he kept reined in day after day, bitter but silent on his tongue, were now tumbling out of his girlfriend and could not be held back any longer. There were no four other words that could drain him so quickly. He resumed his position on the couch and waited for her to continue. Her eyes searched his for a moment before she spoke again.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, and I've come to realize that I haven't been fair to you. We have been together for a couple of years now, and all this time I think you stayed with me because you thought—because I led you to believe that I could give you the kind of future that you wanted. I _mis_led you, Will, and I'm so sorry for that.

I'm never going to be satisfied being only a housewife and a mother. It's not who I am, and it never was. The whole reason I worked as hard as I did to get my soccer scholarship to Pitt, and threw myself into my schoolwork so that I could get into the FBI academy was because I knew that it was my only opportunity to get out of East Allegheny and away from an existence like the one you want for us. I'm an independent person, Will, practically to a fault. I could never allow my happiness, sense of self-worth, and purpose to rest entirely on someone else. I need to find my own way in the world, and my job has allowed me to do that.

You should know by now that what I do isn't just a job for me. It is my greatest challenge and my most gratifying reward. Tracking serial killers and working with the families of their victims demands the best of me every hour of everyday, and I could not love it more, even though there are parts of it that never get any easier and some of the things the team and I are asked to see and do are incredibly frustrating, embittering, and heartbreaking. What I do for a living also defines what I do in the rest of my life, and I am not ashamed of that. Every part of my life with you and Henry and my friends is guided by the lessons I have learned on the job. I don't need to be home with Henry to know what he means to me; I see him everywhere I go, in the faces of victims, family members, strangers, townspeople, law enforcement—even in the criminals themselves. And I see bits of all of them in him. Every time I hold him, it makes me want to do my job better, because I realize that doing my job well makes the world safer, and a safer world is something I want to give him as his mother. I also know that I have to do my job because no one else does it better, and lives depend very much on my performance. I can't take care of Henry by sitting at home with him, knowing what kind of people are out there, especially since I am one of the few people in his world who know how to stop them. The world Henry is growing up in is an incredibly dangerous place, Will, but it gets a little safer with every criminal we catch. That's how I take care of him. I hunt monsters so that our son grows up without any fear of them. I want that for him. I need for him to believe that evil can be staved off and even conquered—that though monsters are very real, people like his mommy are real, too, and wake up every morning ready to fight them on his behalf. This job is my calling, and the good it can do is all I have ever believed in. I will not give that up for anyone."

"So what do you want from me?" Will asked, his voice cracking and hesitant.

"I don't want anything from you anymore, Will. I've taken too much already. This is about what I want _for _you. I want you to be happy. I can't make you happy, and you deserve the chance to find someone who can, someone who wants the same things you want out of life. What you want is wonderful, Will—the house, the quiet neighborhood close to a school, the two-car garage, the big family, the wife who smiles to see you walk in the door, and the pride you feel in knowing that you are responsible for some of her happiness. Someone out there wants that with you; it's just not for me. Each day you stay with me is another day that could have been spent finding her, and we're both miserable for that. You have given up too much to be with me, and received too little in return. It is time that ends. So I'm setting you free. Here," she said, producing a small metal object from the briefcase on the floor and curling his fingers around it.

It was his detective's shield, the one he had given her back in New York after they learned of JJ's pregnancy. Will stared at it as his vision blurred. A tear fell on their joined hands.

"Go back to New Orleans, Will," JJ whispered insistently, squeezing his hand gently. "Start over. Find a woman who wants nothing more than to be your wife and raise your children. You're a great guy, and I know she's out there. You just haven't been able to find her because I've been holding you back. Well, I'm not doing that anymore. Go get your life back, Will, and be happy. That's all I want for you."

"What about Henry?"

"Don't worry about him. I'll call you when you get back home and we will figure out a schedule then. If you are worried that I am going to ask you to give up your parental rights, don't be. You don't have to give anything else up for me. We will share custody of Henry, and I will make sure we alternate birthdays, weekends, and holidays so that you don't get to miss out on much of his life. And I will also be certain to forward you all of the pictures and videos his godmother will take. You are half the reason he is in the world in the first place; I never want to take that away from either of you."

Will covered his face with his hands and leaned on his elbows, releasing a breath he'd been holding in for far too long. Another tear fought its way down his cheek and escaped through his fingers. JJ rubbed his back until he was calm enough to look at her again. She stood up and extended her other hand to him.

"Will? Take your time. I know this is going to be hard for you, but when you are ready to go, I can help you with whatever you need. Are you coming upstairs?"

Will shook his head. He just wanted to be left alone. JJ's speech had exhausted him. He knew the things she said were true, and that what she wanted for him really was the best thing for them both, but he was not ready yet to admit that they were over or that they should be. He still loved her as much as he did the day they met, and possibly more. Every day that passed, even those that passed in silence, gave him another reason to love her, another reason to stay. And now it was over. Now he could not stay. It was time for their lives to be separated, for what was once theirs to become his and hers, and for hers to stay and his to start over somewhere else. It was not going to be easy for him to let her go. They had been struggling for years, and yet this end felt too sudden for him, snatched away from him in an instant. He grieved all the memories he made with her, and all the memories that would not be, all the things he loved about her that someone else would learn. Someone else would get to touch her, hear her voice, join her laughter, wipe her tears, help her heal. Someone else would get to grow old with her. Someone else would help her get over him … There was no more devastating thought. His strength left him and he just sank back into the couch and massaged his temples as she walked away.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: The characters still aren't mine, and I don't profit from any part of writing this story.**

**Pairing: JJ/Emily, femslash**

Something about JJ had been off lately, and Emily could not figure out what it was. The media liaison had been uncharacteristically distant and troubled since even the hours leading up to the team's departure four days ago on their latest case. The jet was now making its way back to Quantico, and because it was nearly midnight and everyone was exhausted from the inevitable late nights working the case, nearly everyone on the team was asleep. Everyone, that is, except for Emily, who was trying to concentrate on the book in her lap, and JJ, who was leaning against the back of the couch looking out the window at the swirling darkness below.

Emily decided to give up on her book, since she was too concerned about JJ to focus on it anyway. There was no point in further wasting her time. She stood up, stretched, and tried to shake the sleep out of her legs. Then she walked past JJ to the galley, removed two bottles of water from the refrigerator, and returned to the couch, tapping JJ on the shoulder to get her attention.

"Here." JJ accepted the proffered water bottle and gave Emily a wan smile of gratitude, more for the company than the drink, though she was a little thirsty. She unscrewed the cap and took a few cursory sips.

"Thanks."

"Anytime. Hey, is everything okay? You haven't really seemed like yourself these last few days. We're all getting a little worried about you. Especially me. Mostly me."

JJ avoided her gaze and began staring out the window again. Emily sat on the couch facing her and rested her hand on her blonde friend's knee. Her deep brown eyes never left JJ.

"JJ, honey, it's okay to tell me. Whatever it is, you can talk to me about it—I won't mind. I'm here for you, Jayje. Please let me help if I can." She practically begged her, unconsciously rubbing JJ's knee hoping the soothing motion would calm her friend enough to speak. It appeared to be working, because the younger woman reached out and placed her hand on Emily's, stopping her movements for a moment as she adjusted herself on the couch so that her back was flush up against Emily's torso and the hand that had been on her knee she now curled around her own stomach, leaving her hand on top of it. Emily felt their fingers intertwine, and instinctively brought her other arm around JJ's waist, pulling her closer as she bent down to place a small kiss on JJ's shoulder.

"Tell me." JJ sighed at the warmth and urgency of Emily's breath in her ear.

"It's Will."

"What about him?"

"I … broke up with him. Last weekend. Before we left."

"You broke up with him? I'm so sorry, Jayje. That must have been hard for you. How did he take it?"

"Not well. He just froze. Couldn't speak, couldn't move. It took most of the day Sunday for me to convince him to leave the couch and at least take a shower, and when he finally heard me, he looked shocked by how much time had passed that he hadn't noticed at all. He was in such a daze. I had given him his old detective's shield back the day after we broke up. He just kept turning it over and over in his hands. It was so heartbreaking for me to look at him, to see how much pain I was putting him through, that I avoided him most of the weekend. He slept in the guest room Sunday night, and Monday morning I got up early with Henry and brought him to the daycare at work. Then we left for the case. I haven't heard from Will since. He was supposed to fly back to New Orleans yesterday, I think."

Emily tightened her arms around JJ in an effort to ease her sadness. "I'm so sorry, JJ. How about you? How are you holding up?"

"Okay, I guess. I mean, our relationship wasn't perfect by any stretch, but he was a huge part of my life for the last couple of years, and I did love him—Neither of us was the person the other one needed us to be. It hasn't really sunk in yet for me that what we had is over, either, because I only had a day to process the breakup before we caught another case. Will was still there when I left, so I'm sure that however I am feeling about it now will change when I walk in my front door tonight and no one is there. The house will be empty, just like it was when I met him. His clothes will be gone from the closet and drawers, and the sheets will be cold. There probably won't even be dishes in the sink to remember him by. I don't know if I am ready to deal with that empty house yet. I don't know if or when I ever will be."

Emily reached over to kiss JJ on the cheek as a tear made its way down her face. She caught it with her lips and kissed JJ again before asking, "Is there anything I can do to make it easier on you?"

JJ shifted a little in Emily's arms so she could look at her. "Can you … Can you stay with me tonight? I just really don't want to be alone. I'm not ready for that at all."

"Of course, baby. Whatever you need. You don't have to go through any of this alone. But we've still got a few more hours before the plane lands, so why don't we try to get some rest?"

JJ snuggled deeper into Emily's arms and closed her eyes. It wasn't long before her breathing slowed and her body relaxed. For her part, Emily preferred to stay awake so that she didn't miss a single moment of holding the blonde.

Three hours later, JJ felt a hand rubbing her arm and heard Emily tell her quietly that it was time to get up. They were about to land. JJ pretended not to hear and instead burrowed her face further into Emily's shoulder. Unfortunately, the rubbing graduated to shaking. She was not going to get out of waking up that easily.

"Come on, sleepyhead. You need to get up now. We'll be on the ground again in five minutes, and I'm not about to carry you and both of our bags to the car. Let's go."

"Mmphghre," was JJ's only reply.

"Jennifer, this is your last warning. If you don't get up right now, I'm going to get Morgan to help me throw you off this plane."

JJ groaned but still did not move.

"That's it," Emily said, chuckling. "Morgan, grab her legs."

"You got it, Prentiss. Which part of the tarmac do you want to dump her onto?"

JJ bolted upright when she felt Derek's hands start to grip her ankles.

"Alright, alright, alright. That's enough. I'm up. I'm up now, okay, so let go."

Derek's grin widened as he maintained his grip.

"Derek! Don't make me use my gun on you." She pointed her index finger at him and pulled back her thumb.

Derek backed off, his hands raised in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. I give up, Jareau. You win. Just please don't shoot."

Reluctantly, JJ put her feet on the ground and stood up for the first time in hours. She started gathering up her things and tidying the plane. When she was finished, she ran her fingers through her hair, straightened her shirt where it had pulled up a little when she slept, and located the nearest available seat so she could prepare to land. She found the seat belt and fastened it tight around her.

After the plane landed, Emily found JJ waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, her ready-bag in hand. They walked back into the building together, put away the files from the case, and left for home. The followup paperwork could wait for all of them until morning.

When they pulled up to the house, Emily climbed out of the car and went to the trunk to remove their bags. She was about to carry them up to the door when she noticed that JJ hadn't gotten out of the car yet. She was just staring at the dark, lifeless windows of her house. Emily opened her door and took the younger woman's hands in her own, startling her out of her reverie.

"Jayje, it's okay. I know the house looks empty, but it won't be for long. I'll be in there with you, and I will stay there as long as you need me to. It won't be empty anymore. You don't have to face this alone. I want to be by your side for all of it."

JJ nodded her permission and allowed Emily to help her out of the car. They walked hand in hand to the door, and Emily waited patiently for JJ to find the key and let them in. When the door opened, Emily flipped on the light switch, pulled JJ in behind her, and immediately headed for the stairs. She tried to move quickly so that JJ would not have time to notice how empty the house felt. She set both of their bags on the bedroom floor, and as she turned toward the bathroom, she heard a strangled sob. JJ was standing frozen in the doorway, staring at the freshly made bed.

"He changed the sheets." That was all she could say. Emily nodded, confused.

"Probably."

"He changed the sheets." JJ repeated herself, frustrated that the brunette couldn't see the significance. "That was all I had left of him. Of us. His smell. And he changed them. It was all I had _left_, and he took that away from me." She sat down on the ground and rested her head on her knees as she pulled them to her chest. Emily knelt on the floor beside her and snaked an arm around her shoulders.

"Shhh. Jennifer, baby, it's okay. I know you miss him, and I know this is going to be hard for you, but I'm sure he didn't do that to hurt you. He probably changed them because he didn't want to hurt himself by having another reminder around of what you used to be. Besides, the fewer of his things you have lying around, the better you are going to be able to heal from this and move on. And that wasn't all you had left, okay? Do you hear me?" Emily cupped JJ's chin, forcing her to look her friend in the eye. "You still have Henry. If you need to remember him, all you need to do is look at your son, and you'll think of Will. You still have everyone at the BAU. And you still have me. You will _always_ have me. He only did what you asked him to do, what he needed to do to be happy—he left. You did what you needed to do to take care of you both. And now it's my turn to take care of you. That starts," here she nodded toward the bed, "with sleep. You'll feel a little better when you've had some rest."

Emily helped JJ to her feet and when she was confident that the blonde was going to be fine, she retrieved her toiletry kit from her bag and headed off to the bathroom to shower and brush her teeth. JJ took the sound of the shower as her cue to start moving. She trudged over to her dresser and pulled out pajamas for them both, dressing herself and laying the remaining clothes on the bed for Emily. She turned down the sheets on the bed and sat down, taking a deep breath before sliding in between them and pulling the covers up over her head.

Emily stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped only in a large, thick towel. She spotted the clothes JJ laid out on the bed for her and smiled at her thoughtfulness. She slipped the shorts on under her towel before removing it. She was about to slide on the t-shirt when she noticed movement on the bed and a pair of bright blue eyes staring at her.

"JJ, my eyes are up here," she said jokingly. Despite how tightly the blankets were wound around the blonde, she thought she saw a faint blush creep up as she finished pulling the shirt over her head. Emily smiled and crawled on the bed, pausing only to yank the blankets away from JJ.

"HEY! What do you think you're doing?"

"I don't know. I had this _crazy _idea that sharing your bed meant that I would also get to share some of the covers, say … half? It's just so weird how my mind works sometimes."

JJ growled and folded her arms across her chest. Since she was no longer holding the blankets hostage, Emily pulled them around to cover them both and slid closer to JJ. She placed a trail of kisses leading from her bare shoulder up the blonde's neck. She'd reached her ear when the younger woman turned her head and stopped her.

"Em, we can't. Not yet. I want to … but it's way too soon. Will is hardly gone."

Emily rolled back over and sank her head into the pillow. "I know, Jayje. I'm sorry. I just got caught up in the moment."

"I know you did. But remember what you said about not wanting any shortcuts? I don't, either. We have to do this right, take our time so neither of us ends up hurt. I don't want you to think that you're just a rebound for me. I don't want to do anything with you that we'll both regret in the morning. If we're going to be together, it has to be for the right reasons, not because it's late, and I'm lonely, and you're trying to help me forget about him. Do you understand that?"

"Yeah, I do. And I promise, I'll wait. I will even let you set the pace for us. I just want you to be happy, and I know I can make you happy. However long you need me to wait, I know it will be worth it to be with you in the end."

"You are so right about that." JJ grinned suggestively, dragging her finger down the center of the brunette's chest.

"See that? How am I supposed to behave when you say things like that?" Emily whined.

"I believe it's called discipline, sweetie." JJ kissed her on the forehead and snuggled into Emily's arms.

"That or cold showers," muttered a clearly disgruntled Emily as she wriggled out of JJ's grasp, picked up her towel, and headed back to the bathroom. JJ giggled and closed her eyes. She was asleep when Emily returned to the bed, and only stirred slightly as Emily pulled her into her arms again. After a few minutes, both women were asleep.

The next morning, the alarm went off and it was JJ's turn to roust a grumpy, stubborn Emily out of bed.

"Come on, Em. We have to get up now or we'll be late for work." She shook her a little as she spoke, but Emily made no sign of moving, so JJ changed tactics. Placing one hand on her shoulder and the other on her waist, she pushed on her, rolling her over and over until she was wrapped up in the blankets like a mummy and teetering on the edge of the bed. With one final push, Emily hit the floor with a thud.

"Ow." The brunette opened her eyes to assess the damage. There was a bump on her forehead, but when she tried to raise one of her hands to feel it, she found she couldn't move. She looked down at the blankets wound tightly around her. "_JJ! _Damn it, get me out of this. Help me untangle these blankets so I can kill you."

"Tempting offer, Em, but I'm going to have to say no. Besides, I need to get ready for work. You should think about doing the same."

"Jennifer Jujubes Jason Juniper Jesus Jareau! Get me out of these blankets this instant, woman."

"Or what?"

"Or … or I will tell everyone one of the embarrassing stories your mother told me about you when you were little."

"Wait, you've been talking to my mother without me?"

"What? I happened to be in your office one day, looking for a file, and she called. I told her you weren't available and asked to take a message. One thing led to another, and within a minute, she was telling me all kinds of motherly dirt about you."

"I'm not sure I believe you, but I can't take the chance that you are telling the truth. So fine, I'll help you up."

She grabbed one end of the blankets and lifted it until a rather undignified Emily Prentiss rolled out. Her face bright red, Emily stood up and stalked off toward her ready-bag, pulling out the last clean work outfit she had in it and headed to the bathroom to change. JJ laughed and walked over to her closet to select her own outfit. When both women had showered, changed, and brushed their teeth, they walked downstairs with just enough time for Emily to grab her car keys off the table by the door and for JJ to lock up the house. They climbed into the car and headed to work.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: What I own in this story fills my heart, not my wallet.**

**Pairing: JJ/Emily, femslash**

**A/N: Thank you for your patience. I hope this final chapter lives up to your expectations.**

"_On the threshold of love we are bashful … There has to be someone who will say to us, 'Here is what you may love: love it.'" -Marcel Proust_

With her only free hand, JJ brushed aside the few strands of hair that had loosened themselves from her ponytail while watching a movie with Emily on the couch. The fingers of her other hand were threaded with Emily's, whose arm was stretched underneath JJ's side, and her thumb unconsciously sought out and grazed the back of Emily's fingers, matching the slow, jagged rhythm of her thoughts. They were cuddled together on the couch, with Big Spoon Emily resting her head on JJ's shoulder and wrapping her arm around her waist, her hand half-covered by the bottom of JJ's t-shirt. The blonde could still feel the paths traced by those fingers on her stomach, and the memory of Emily's touch made her shiver almost as much as the touch itself. The hand of the brunette was still now, and had been since Emily fell asleep twenty minutes into the movie, succumbing quickly to the exhaustion of too many difficult cases in a row and far too little downtime.

JJ felt a small burst of jealousy at the light snores and gentle breathing emanating from the woman behind her. Although she was just as bone-weary and stressed as Emily and the rest of the BAU family, her thoughts refused to slow or cease multiplying, and her eyes would not completely close until her mind was quiet. For the first time in her life, JJ wished that it was a case that had left her so unsettled, so anxious and weak and wanting and yet also fulfilled and brave and strong but still so unsure of herself. She wished for anyone else to be the cause of her sleeplessness on this and many nights in the six weeks since her breakup with Will. By all rights, Will should have been the source of all her troubled feelings, instead of the dark-haired woman in whose arms she now lay. But the fact was undeniable that it was Emily.

Emily had spent nearly every waking hour since the breakup by JJ's side, making sure she and Henry were taken care of, and in the process, she was making everything harder for JJ—harder because she made getting over Will feel so easy, so right. Instead of leaving her in want of nothing, Emily's tender attentions only left JJ wanting more of her. She was insatiable for her touch, for her quiet breathing on her neck at night, for the rare bliss of Emily's melting gaze as part of herself emerged from the steel encasement of her heart—JJ wanted daily, hourly, to rediscover every part of Emily that she met, and to explore those things that were yet in shadow. Emily made it hard for JJ to believe, as she had wanted to, that she was not deserving or worthy of love after she walked away from the most consuming relationship of her life beyond her immediate family. Emily loved her effortlessly and without judgment. Emily made it hard for her to push people away and retreat inside herself, as she was always wont to do, because when she sensed JJ building up her defenses, she would look at her with such immense kindness, understanding, and patience that JJ had no choice but to dismantle the walls herself. She did so without hesitation every single time, and each time was rewarded with a little more of Emily's own guarded heart, which was tentatively doing some stretching of its own.

It should have been harder for JJ to trust Emily to keep her word that she would stay as long as she was needed, given that JJ was in the most vulnerable state she had ever been in her life, and that Emily herself had a nearly impenetrable armor around her heart that had always kept her from trusting and being trusted. The media liaison was accustomed to protecting herself with a fiercely stubborn independence; she had always told herself that she didn't need anyone else to solve her problems or fight her battles for her, and maybe she was still right about that. She didn't need Emily to take care of her, and Emily knew that. But JJ _wanted _the profiler's comfort and advice, and that was enough for her to stay. When members of the BAU pulled JJ aside and asked her if she was sure she trusted Emily to do the right thing by her, given how unraveled her life had become in the last few months, JJ looked them dead in the eye and said _yes_, in the clearest, strongest voice she could manage. She was sure. And when they asked her how she could be so certain, the answer was always the same: _Because she promised to stay, and she's still here_.

Only three days had passed after Emily moved in before someone in the BAU noticed. It was fairly obvious that something in the friendship between the two women had changed, had evolved, given that the they normally lived an hour apart, and yet were showing up to work in the same car at the same time. That raised Derek Morgan's suspicions on the first day, which were not confirmed in his mind until the third day, when Emily, who had run out of clothes from her go-bag and had not yet had time to either do laundry or go home to fetch fresh clothes, arrived at work in one of JJ's suits. The sight of Emily in her clothes had an extraordinarily intimate feeling about it that JJ did not expect, but it thrilled her nonetheless. The way her clothing draped on the brunette made a statement: _I will know this part of your life by the way you wear it, from the inside out_. And simpler: _I am yours_. JJ had never had anyone in her life who had both the patience and the desire to know her that well, and she found the experience quite moving.

The more time passed, the more questions were asked, and the more questions were asked, the more team members realized that JJ and Emily had at some point slipped beyond the boundaries of their already close friendship. JJ, ever the skilled talker, didn't mind the barrage of questions at first. She took it as a sign that the people she considered part of her family cared enough about her to care about the people in her life. But the day came when part of the interrogation focused on Emily's motives for moving in, for getting closer to JJ, and that was the point when JJ broke. Even Garcia, who knew enough about JJ and Emily's relationship from her conversations with each to stay away from the dangerous questions, was taken aback by the other blonde's unexpected reaction. The flames in her eyes that they expected to see were slowly being doused by tears. Her shoulders sagged, and her head fell to her chest for a moment, and when she finally raised her head, all that remained of the anger and stubborness they waited for were a few dying embers, and a streak of wet coal under and around her eyes. Her breath made ragged by unshed tears, JJ cleared her throat and, in a voice that did little to drown out the silence of the room, brought all the questions forever to a halt.

"Do you really believe I don't know what you're asking me? Did you actually believe you were hiding it well, the question behind the question? You're not worried about Emily. You would never question _Emily's _motives, because you remember that she's the woman who's been by your sides the last two years, who has defended your lives with her own. She's the woman who has seen you broken and seen you whole, and never walked away from you at either time. _Emily _isn't just your friend; she's your family. You know who she is, and what she means to you. This isn't about Emily. This is about the fact that the person who has been taking care of me all these months, who has been helping me move on from Will, isn't just Emily—she's a woman. Let's face it—you never wondered about Will like this. You just trusted me to make good choices about the people in my life. And now that it's a woman instead of a man by my side, you think that she's taking advantage of me when I'm vulnerable, that she's getting into my heart before my head clears. You couldn't be more wrong.."

"For one thing, we're both vulnerable now. I am the first person she has ever loved, ever been willing to show her heart to, and revealing it to me has not been without its pain. If you asked, I could tell you how many times she's cried herself to sleep in my arms, worried and exhausted by worrying about me, and about the price of giving herself to me. There are still so many wounds she's kept hidden that we're still finding out about. She's still afraid that there are things about her that might make me want to leave if I see them. But she's getting less and less afraid with time. And I've stopped wondering about our future, because our Emily has been nothing short of incredible to me since I left Will. She has been far easier on me than I have been on myself."

"When I left him, I wanted only to be punished for letting him go, for not trying again. I wanted to be miserable for a while, but Emily wouldn't let me. She stepped in and reminded me that the reason Will and I walked away from each other was to give us both a chance to find real happiness. I fought her at first, but she was persistent, and after some time, I started to realize that it was okay to smile, okay to love, okay to heal. You are welcome to doubt me, to doubt us, if you want to, but I have never felt more confident about any relationship than I do about this one. Emily and I are right together. My life makes sense with her in it in ways it never has with anyone else. Henry's life makes more sense with her in it to raise him with me. She is wonderful with him and he adores her. I know things now about myself that I didn't see so clearly when I was with Will."

"When she looks at me, I know I am safe. When she listens to me, I know I am loved. When she can't pull away from me until it is absolutely necessary, I know I am cherished. I was never sure about those things with Will. We were so far apart on so many issues that I always had room for doubt about how he felt. I don't think he loved me as much as he loved who he hoped I would be. I think he was always waiting for my answers to his questions to change. Emily doesn't have any questions. She just loves me and lets that guide us through the day. So forgive me for telling you this: We could sit here and I could listen to you question me for hours, but it would all be wasted time, because none of those questions have answers that matter. The answers to the questions you _should_ be asking, both as our friends and as our colleagues? I am happy. I am loved. I make her happy. She is loved, for the first time. We are making each other better. We are lighting the darkness we carry inside of us, and we're going to be better friends and coworkers because of the strength we find in each other."

"_Those_ are the answers you are looking for. I have a question for you, though. I told you that I am happy; when did that stop being enough for you?" JJ pushed away from the table, stood up, and walked out of the conference room.

Emily, who had been watching the whole exchange from the bullpen, where she was catching up on a large backlog of paperwork, paused in her work to observe JJ as she glided over to her office, emerging in the doorway seconds later with her purse in her hand and a determined, nearly furious glint in her eye. Emily carefully made her way up the stairs to JJ's office, placed a hand lightly on her arm to turn her around, and waited for the blonde center of her world to respond.

"Hey."

"Hey." JJ's voice had all but disappeared, which was a sign to Emily that she was starting to retreat. Because the woman she loved was fast becoming her favorite book, it was only a matter of seconds before Emily was able to read her face and determine the next best step.

"Jayje, honey, please look at me." Emily placed a finger under her chin and tilted her head up until their eyes met. "What do you need? Do you need to go home?"

"I just ... need to forget. I need to go home and forget everything but us. Can we do that?"

Nodding, Emily quietly replied, "Of course. I'll order the pizza and you can pick the movie. Sound like a plan?" Taking the receding tide from JJ's blue eyes as a yes, she wrapped an arm loosely around her waist and led them out of the building and back to the house they shared.

_The best intentions_, JJ chuckled, as she settled further into Emily's embrace on the couch they now occupied. Emily had only managed to stay awake long enough to eat two slices of pizza and watch the first twenty minutes of the movie before nodding off. She was so tired that she would have fallen asleep with pizza crust hanging out of her mouth if JJ hadn't removed it for her. But her simple plan to distract JJ had mostly worked, and JJ was grateful for the break in her thoughts.

"Love you, too," came a voice still heavy with sleep.

"Huh?" JJ was perplexed. "I mean, I love you, obviously, but I don't remember saying anything, and I've been awake the whole time. Did I start thinking out loud or something?"

Emily shook her head, and with the index finger of the hand on the hem of JJ's shirt, pointed to her other hand, while JJ watched in shock as her thumb, which she thought was just stroking the back of Emily's knuckles, traced endless hearts on the back of her hand.

"That's what woke me up. You've been doing that for a while now. You didn't know?"

"Hm-mmm. Seems my thumb has a mind of its own. But now that I know what I'm doing …." She bent down and brought her lips to rest briefly on the back of Emily's hand, right in the center of the heart her thumb had drawn seconds before.

Emily tugged on her shirt, and JJ squirmed until she was facing her, nearly falling off the couch and landing in the box of pizza on the coffee table, with the brunette's strong arms the only security she ever needed. Laying one hand on Emily's cheek, JJ began placing kisses on her temple, her forehead, and both her cheeks before leaning in to claim Emily's lips.

The kiss was unhurried, that rare mix of sweetness, joy, gratitude, patience, with longing and need replaced by the satisfaction of wishes and promises fulfilled, wanting nothing because having everything already; it was that blend we call love, a label that can describe in part but never contain all the things it means to the people fortunate enough to feel it, and to have it returned. Arms and legs tangled, and the women were pulled together so close that the absence of space between them became a sort of promise, that no matter how far apart they may find themselves in the days and years ahead, they would promise each other never to feel further apart than they were at this moment.

"Hey, Em?" JJ nudged her slightly.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Be my girlfriend?"

"Of course. Be mine?"

"Silly. I've been yours since the day we met. We're just making it official."

**EPILOGUE**

_look_

by E.E. Cummings

_look_

_my fingers,which_

_touched you_

_and your warmth and crisp_

_littleness_

_-see?do not resemble my_

_fingers. My wrists hands_

_which held carefully the soft silence_

_of you(and your body_

_smile eyes feet hands)_

_are different_

_from what they were. My arms_

_in which all of you lay folded_

_quietly,like a_

_leaf or some flower_

_newly made by Spring_

_Herself,are not my_

_arms. i do not recognise_

_as myself this which i find before_

_me in a mirror. i do_

_not believe_

_i have ever seen these things;_

_someone whom you love_

_and who is slenderer_

_taller than_

_myself has entered and become such_

_lips as i use to talk with,_

_a new person is alive and_

_gestures with my_

_or it is perhaps you who_

_with my voice_

_are_

_playing._


End file.
